Cleanliness is next to...

Sometimes I am so out of touch, not just with my feelings, but with my thoughts that I it is only from observation of my actions that I consciously know what they are.
In anticipation of that rare bird, an invited guest, I'm doing a massive amount of cleaning... wait, stop lying, where is that resolve to go and sin no more?... I am moving debris and detritus in my house from one spot to another.
In the bags, (yessir, yessir, three bags full,) of paper to be recycled with which I dispatched Himself, were scads of missalletes from various publishers, as well as originals of my adaptations of religious songs purporting to be "psalms," and gospel acclamations for various HallayLooojahs.
Aside from my unfortunate hoarder tendencies, there was some thought that originally went into saving these mountains of paper -- they would be needed every three years, right?
Wrong.
Whatever I am doing next time Year A of the Lectionary cycle rolls around it will not include looking at the deli menu to order up a Hymn sandwich, or use of Gather in any way that meaningfully requires my input.
Clearly, I have made a decision.
Why, my life loo...., I mean, the house looks less messy already!