In all truth:
I need to file.
I need to FILE badly.
That's how the thing with the letters started in the first place (how typical that I instead sat back and enjoyed reading the letters).
I feel, here (with the shredder sitting not a foot away) that it's probably a good idea to simply purge all files right now, and begin again.
Not the letters (or cards), but the all the rest that has piled up as a result of the letters (and cards), so to speak.
"Letters (and cards)" being a sort of umbrella - meant to describe a myriad of things that have come my way since my dad died.
Things that require special focus. And any lack of special focus meant a stack of such proportions would grow in my office. Not like a weed, but like a database.
I let my files go - for too long.
Now I see a stack of recipes, bills and various diary entries (all written on random pieces of paper - all without any dates to lend any context) and tears from magazines for a million different purposes - all mixed together in one neat 4' high 8.5 x 11 stack.
It's a stack with sharp edges that is placed at a right angle to the room, and points East, if that matters.
For whatever reason the kittens have not disturbed it, and for that I'm very glad.
And - I can only hope that it's just receipts, recipes, etc.
Really, I have no idea.
Rather than a shredder, what I need is an incinerator. As the idea of using my shredder for so many hours makes me cringe. How loud of me?
Because we recently upgraded to a better one.
Better meaning louder.
Better not being extraordinary.
extraordinary = quieter
quieter = $ + extrodinaryThis, too, applies to vacuum cleaners. An upgrade will only be louder. It's only when one begins loitering in the "investment" tier of vacuum buying - that the vacuums begin being quieter.
Much, much quieter.
Victoria lives in Chicago and occasionally writes in her blog..