The administration of life...

... sucks like Nancy Reagan (i.e. big time - allegedly) . I loathe having to acknowledge/deal with shit like this. I am one of those people who never actually opens anything that looks dull (i.e. in a standard-sized white or brown envelope with black type visible through the window); unless, of course, it is my birthday in which case I open everything including the neighbours' mail and my curtains. I tend to pile boring-looking letters on my desk and then throw them in a drawer after a few weeks or moments before my parents arrive (depending on what comes first). This causes less problems these days in that I do all my boring/important stuff via the internet so am less likely to miss something major. I have even asked a few of the orgainsations I have dealings with to communicate with me solely via the internet; which is great because it causes me less personal inconvenience but I can pretend I'm doing it for the environment. Some organisations are really proactive in this area (non-paper comms not the environment - although if they're smart they can pretend it's for the environment too). In fact, my old friends in the international arms trade positively refuse to communicate with me via letters - I love those guys; they really, y'know, get me.

I forced myself to tackle the whole paper work/clutter thing this week and I've done a pretty good job so far. I learned that I only need (loosest sense of the word) to keep wage slips for 3months, and bank/credit card statements for 6months - this meant that there was a lot to discard. Normally, I discard bank/credit card statements, and in fact all sorts of personal mail, into the bin rarely opened and never torn - not even in half. I've been led to believe that this is fucking stupid and I should commence shredding. Although, that said, I did see a trailer for the new Harrison Fogey movie and it showed a shredded document being painstakingly stuck back together by the baddies with a pair of tweezers and a big light so I'm not convinced my identity is totally safe. Mog lent me her shredder (she used to be an auditor so I knew she'd have one) and I must admit there was something disturbingly pleasurable about running certain things through it.

I read somewhere that a half-assed cleaning/clearing job is worse than no effort at all, so I felt compelled to organise and file all the remaining stuff that is actually important. Someone recommended I head out to Big W to buy some box files, storage boxes and other crap like that. I duly obliged, but immediately regretted it. The place was massive and almost devoid of people. The rows of (what can only be described as) stuff went on and on and on. This weird music/noise that sounded like dead souls moaning was playing quietly as I nervously walked down to the stationery area. I got everything I needed at a very excellent price so in that respect at least Ican't complain. But it was a very, very odd place with very, very big bags of sweeties.

I've also been advised that I should be saving 10-20% of my net salary each month. I'm pretty sure that's what I've been spending on my credit/storecards each month, so I'm going to have to sit down and budget and basically get my ass sorted.

I realise that this seems so anal and boring and, therefore, nothing like the girl you know, but needs must people, and I'm pretty hopeful that once I get this rubbish fixed out, I'll be even more fun and relaxed than ever before. Bet you can't wait!