The Box

Well, here it is: the Box of Shame. Probably a year's worth of crap in there -- bills, bank statements, coupons, catalogs, original copies of the Constitution, home enema kits, illegal fireworks, you name it. The box is about 18" deep, in case you can't tell. It's been combed through, purged of unimportant stuff, then put back rather than filing, then topped with more crap, repurged, put back again, ad infinitum. This is why it's so shameful. Why not just file this shit and be done with it? I spend more time avoiding it and half-assing it than I would doing it. But that's just how we do. Or rather, how we don't.

I was home most of the day today, since Hannah's school decided that an 8" snow in Chicago was just too out of the ordinary not to commemorate with a day off. And, I only received one piece of immediately recyclable mail today, so I had a whole extra five seconds to think about it and decided it was time to tangle with the Shame Box. It took some wherewithal just to bring the box out of the closet and downstairs, because this was essentially throwing my hat over the fence. There's no going back now...the box, she is out. I started sorting through it before it occurred to me to take a photo; before I began the box was actually brimming with papers. I left a kind of junk mail wake on my way down the stairs.

And that's where I left it. As soon as I got about an inch down (which got me back to August 2009) Hannah decided it was time for me to be the Prince and her to be Snow White, and we had to dance and twirl around the kitchen. Then we, you know, had errands to do, the primary one being not looking at papers. Then we had to take Peter to the doctor, make dinner, bake cookies, watch really excellent TV, and then it was bedtime. It's okay, though; all that paper will still be there tomorrow, right? I don't know if it's the reduced clutter or the increased exercise or what, but I'm feeling a little less frazzled these last few days. It's kinda nice.