What's the Capital of the State of Disarray?

Something I learned this weekend: I'm only really motivated to clean my apartment up when I have guests coming over. (Though it should be noted that this is not so much cleaning up as it is cramming all my junk into hidden cabinets.)

I mean, almost all of us have somewhat messy houses; it just depends on your tolerance for such things (and such things building up). I notice that, like a frog in gradually heating water, I have pretty high tolerance for messiness accumulating in my apartment.

And here's what I figured out happens (to me and others). When there's one thing that should be moved / put away, your brain sees it and registers, but no action is taken. Then after some time of actually being there (each time triggering your brain again as a little flag), your eyes tend to "overlook" it and your brain tends to ignore it. Like when a pressed nerve starts to numb out, and your body acclimatizes to the existing stimuli. Or like banner ads.

And then more stuff gets ignored, and so on and so on.

Look around. What's around you that you've been "meaning to" clean up or put away or file or whatever, and you haven't? And over time, it's just become part of that room's "decor"?

I'll start.

At my work desk, it's this plastic bag sitting behind my aloe vera plant.
And this pile of publication PR forms for if my company wants to place an ad in the local industry magazine.
And these 5 business cards from local restaurants that I enjoyed.
And this blue Post-It Note that has outdated testcase figures on it, stuck just to the right and behind my laptop.
And the two foot odor removal insoles that came from the hotel room in Tokyo, which I thought would be neat to keep at home for future use. (Yes, it's actually on the desk.)

If I were blogging about this at home, the immediate list would be tons longer. Now you.