From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Blowsy E. Fitzrovian

The good news: I already found a new home for the file cabinet.  The delay in getting it there came in the form of a toddler who didn't want her parent to leave the house to come and get it, so I have it for a couple more days.  That's ok, but I emptied the drawers prematurely and everything is sitting on a chair in the office.

When I look at this stack, I see a lot of pain and stress from the past.  Financial records from a time where I was busy settling a large estate debt and medical records detailing procedures that ultimately came to nothing.  Plus a lot of things I just held onto because I needed them for a long time but not anymore.

This might take a while, as I think I've said before, shredding paper takes up more space and I think I've taken up my share in my duplex's recycling bin.

I decided last night that I'm sick of these TV dramas and movies about people in the suburbs whose marriages are falling apart, or their dull suburban lives where the only thing that makes sense to do is have an affair and then everything implodes.  Who watches these?  Well, me I guess.  I tried watching the BBC series Doctor Foster, which I read has garnered positive reactions.  But what is so great about watching a show about someone who has a seemingly perfect life and perfect house and kid, and the house is always way too big for the married couple and the kid (THERE'S ALWAYS JUST ONE KID), and then it all goes up in flames because someone has some extra sex. It's a concept from the 1980s, where the tightness of the nuclear family embodies the material successes of the breadwinner(s).  If one thing's not going as planned, it must all be shit!  Dull, dull dull... more people should treat this theme the way John Waters did.  I guess Lifetime Movie Network gets closer to what I wish for.  Maybe I should shut up and write a script instead of wasting my time writing about papers that need to be shredded.

Let me take this moment to congratulate myself yet again for calling the VVA in to take away some more bags of stuff.  I'm finally using the yellow bags they leave as a courtesy when they come by.  Maybe this weekend I'll get rid of the bag of styrofoam peanuts at last too!