The Stack
I finally did it. Finally. After staring at the same un-filed stack of exponentially growing papers unsuccessfully "hidden" under our side table, I caved in, sat down, and sorted through months and months of documents. It was painfully boring. And by painful, I mean actually painful. I had to resort to legs out and butt on a pillow because I sat there so long. Criss-cross-applesauce wasn't working for me. My ankle bones feel bruised just thinking about having to sink them into the hardwood one second more. I must have touched over a thousand papers, thrown half of them away, filed 3/4 of those leftover, and the rest, well, I just didn't know what to do with. And I still don't. Maybe they'll begin the framework for the inevitable pile of junk that will start accumulating upon our next mail delivery. I guess we'll find out in a year's time (likely at which point I'll be forced by shame to sit down and file once again). Truth be told, I'm embarrassed to admit that I had unopened mail dating back to May...maybe at the time I was too afraid to open it? Who knows. Sometimes, I see a piece of mail and pretend like it's not there. Or that I didn't actually see it. Like it's disease-ridden..or something worse. Like one of those Howlers that Ron Weasley receives in the mail (Harry Potter reference, people). I know, bad habit. Come to think of it, I don't know if I've ever told Adam about this little phobia of mine. Maybe it's time for me to come clean? Guh! Sometimes, I hate being a "grown up."
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