How many times do you walk past something on the floor before you finally stop to pick it up?
Shortly after I got to work this morning, I noticed that a leaf from the plant by the front door of the office had fallen off. I noticed it but I didn’t do anything about it. It was more of a subliminal thought as I passed it, barely registering on my there’s-crap-on-the-floor radar. However, the more times I passed it during the day, the more obvious it became, begging for my attention. Still, I didn’t bother to pick it up.
Later in the day, I noticed that someone had left a candy wrapper on the table by the elevators. Once again, I noticed it but it didn’t occur to me to pick it up and throw it away. The table with the candy wrapper is about four steps away from the plant which had discarded its lifeless leaf. Nonetheless, it still didn’t trigger my usual obsessive compulsive need to tidy up a bit.
Still later in the day, the cubicle down the hall from my office lost a piece of its rigging. I took one step past the dislocated hole plug on the floor but could no longer remain uninvolved. The squalor had now reached epidemic proportions. I replaced the hole plug, walked to the table and picked up the candy wrapper and walked the four steps to the dead plant leaf and picked it up as well.
At last, the office was safe from the evil crappity-crap demons which had possessed it. Domestic office bliss had been restored. You may praise me now.