My secret storeroom was full of old and dusty things. Some of them had once been very valuable indeed, while others were just junk. It was so crowded in there that it was hard to see which was which. The room was small, dimly lit and musty, and for as long as I could remember it had been my job to look after it.
I knew what the others would say to me if they knew about my secret store. “This store is messy! You have not been minding it properly. You must sort it all out so that you can throw out all the junk!” I did not want to be ashamed of it if anyone saw inside, so I set about cleaning the store, sorting it all, cleaning out the boxes and ordering all the items.
There was a lot in there but gradually I got a sense of what was in there, and I even created my own filing system. I kept changing the system as I discovered more and more in there. For a small room it contained a lot. The others never asked me what I was doing. They just went on playing out in the sun while I was busy organising the store.
After many months of ordering and sorting I became impatient, and I decided to spend all day, every day in the store. I foolishly believed that if I managed to sort it out, then I would be free of my obligation and would be able at last to play outside in the sun. Day and night I worked, sorting and ordering and creating a dozen new filing systems each day.