One day I fully expect my rotting carcass to be found sitting upright at my computer, buried to my eyeballs under piles and piles of papers that have finally manage to suck the last breath of air from my body despite a lifetime of effort to file, throw out, recycle or otherwise control their relentless onslaught. I will still be dressed in my writing attire of coffee-stained sweats, a petrified half-eaten bagel clutched in my hand, while my emaciated dog and cat dig beneath the rubble to nibble on what’s left of my toes for nourishment.
In keeping with the “This Time I really Mean It” theme set forth by fellow blogger, Nanny Goats in Panties, in 2010 I will attempt to amend this nightmare scenario in the following ways:
I will refrain from dumping any and all paper-related items onto my kitchen table the second I rush in the door just because of an accelerated need to pee. Oh sure, I say I’ll put them in their proper place later, but I never do.
I vow to be able to locate the top of my desk and my keyboard on the first try without fear that under all that clutter something lives that may regard my probing fingers as a snack of some sort.
The newspaper will be read on day it arrives or immediately throw it away. Everything’s on the Internet. Why do I even get a paper anymore?
I will finally give in and sign up for e-bills. Other documents will be placed in file folders expressly for that purpose (unlike my current method of tossing them on the floor and hoping they file themselves).
Actual notepads (Post-Its count) will be used to write on as opposed to the back of a torn open envelope that I then must save because I’ve now bestowed upon it some great importance.
Napkins will be used only once, then disposed of even if they still have a square inch or two where another swipe across my mouth would be possible. Same with Kleenex. I cannot be personally responsible for saving every single tree.
Magazines will be neatly stacked next to my bed and, immediately upon receiving a new issue, last month’s will be discarded whether I’ve read it or not. And how is it that I'm getting so many? When did that happen?
All these things I vow. I will probably fail miserably, but I vow nonetheless.
It’s not that I haven’t tried -- repeatedly, earnestly tried -- to do all this before. I’m always quite proud of how tidy my kitchen looks when I’ve managed to clear the paper clutter from my table for however briefly. Then it’s as if poltergeists run amok. I don’t even see it happening, but there it is -- baaaack and mocking me once again.
Maybe I should just resign myself to ending up like a modern day Miss Havisham, but I’m nothing if not tenacious, so I’ll fight on because this time -- THIS TIME -- I really mean it.
What resolutions have you made that you know you will totally crap out on?
Over at Nanny Goats in Panties you can read how others are fooling themselves, too…
If you leave a comment I’ll file it. I promise…
