In the closet.....

I had a chance to look closely at my office closet.  I do that only when I seriously need to find something.  But it is amazing what I choose not to look at.

I don't look at the printed historical postcards because there are probably 500 of them sitting there.  500 really means 2000, because there are four to a sheet.  I used them a lot - until websites and email took over and I stopped sending mail to unknown strangers about how much a property was on the market for, or what it sold for. 

I don't look at the pads of paper with the company name and my photo.  There are probably 50 of those.  That means there are 1,250 sheets of those with 18+ year old photos.  Much younger.  Short brown hair.  But I still use them.  They make great lists: shopping, things to do, and things-not-to-forget to put on the things-to-do list. They are only for me, and if someone sees them, I crumple them up. 

I don't look at the stack of Alameda aerial postcards that are so old the runways at the Alameda Naval Air Station aren't overgrown with weeds!  They may be historical one of these days.

My most recent marketing purchase is comprised of 4"x6" notepads with one edge sticky.  That was about two years ago.  About two of those have been put to use.  The rest are in the box.  I can't count that high.  The plus side of this purchase?   I didn't put a photo on them. 

And while I didn't look for it, there it was at the bottom of the closet.  Our old electric typewriter.  And on the shelf above were the correction tapes and more (not fresh, mind you) typewriter ribbons.   We could make mistakes and fix them without white-out!  Do you know there is a generation of adults who think that white-out is colored makeup?

Bringing it forward, if we have a power failure I couldn't use that typewriter... or my keyboard and screens and email and Twitter (or until the smart phones died), or until my backup for my computer stopped working.   The typewriter had been had by progress.   It's now in the garage which is the beginning of the end.

One of these days I'll deal with the notepads with the 18 year old photos.  But since I wasn't looking for them....well, you know.  They will probably sit on the shelf  a bit longer, like so many other things.

Live richly,

marilyn  



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