Thank you so much for thinking of me at this special time.

Paying bills is satisfying–the way cleaning is satisfying. I want to organize and demolish the balances and loans.

My room is not clean, and it is driving me bonkers, and IT’S NOT MY FAULT. I mean, I would just clean the darn room if I hadn’t arranged this deal for myself in October:
When I got back from the honeymoon, I carried the happily-ever-after gifts up to my teeny bedroom and promised myself that I would only remove each gift from the pile once it had been properly acknowledged in a thank you note.
I want to do a good job on these notes. (I don’t want them to contain phrases like the one at the top of this post.)
This is a good system. For one, there is no way I will overlook one gift and forget to send a thank you for it. For two, I like having the gift in front of me when I’m writing.


Blondie on my computer. December 29, 2010.

"Just finish cleanin' up your room
Let's see that dust fly with that broom
Get all that garbage out of sight
Or you don't go out Friday night
Yakety yak (don't talk back)."