I’m ridiculously organized. Martha Stewart doesn’t scare me. Sometimes I fear this could lead me to do bad things – like crime or drugs or scrapbooking.

Husband, on the other hand, has never met a piece of paper he didn’t love. He’s by no means a horder, but let’s put it this way: Remember way back in high school when you took the SAT and the registration form had that section that you were supposed to keep? It said, “Retain this form for your records.” Guess who still has that form in his records?

Yeah.

Despite me extreme tidiness, we do somehow have pockets of clutter that accumulate and every once in a while I sort through them and file or shred or otherwise dispose of things we no longer need. I was on hold today for an interminable amount of time, which did have the minor benefit of giving me time to sort through one of these clutter-pockets. It’s at these times that I discover things like commendation letters that my extremely modest Husband forgets to tell me about. My current favorite is one I just found from then-Vice President Al Gore that basically says, “Hey Eric – thanks for being you.”

If I had more than 30 free seconds today I’d tell you about the “Darth Vader baby pictures” incident.

Please clap.
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