Or something like that.
Paper is the bane of my existence.
For supposedly living in an increasingly “paperless” society, I feel like there’s more paper floating around than ever before. I have to say my filing system is haphazard, at best, and it’s only getting worse. I really, really need for this shit to be organized so I can
a) find things and
b) have everything put away neatly.
Part of it is, I must admit, a touch of paranoia. I’ve kept things that I’m not sure I’ve needed to keep, all because of a “just in case” feeling. Some things, yes, you need to keep. Tax stuff, legal documents, etc., etc… those are all no-brainers. I just don’t know why I’ve got So. Much. Paper. otherwise.
I keep thinking that once I get the filing cabinet (yes, we even have a lovely filing cabinet, ready to hold all those pesky sheets!) sorted, life will be much better. Delusional? I don’t know. Being self-employed, as it were (the writerly type) I also have receipts coming out of the wazoo.
Don’t ask. It’s painful.
I know people say don’t try to organize the clutter, get rid of it! But what if it’s stuff that you really can’t get rid of…? Then what are you supposed to do? Well, I can’t put this off any longer. I’ve got to start trying to make some headway here. You know the drill. Call in the Mounties if I haven’t reappeared in the next couple of days.