New Filing Cabinet

That's right, I finally ponied up $30 for an old, used, tan metal filing cabinet to sit next to the one I already have. In my 14X9 office I have crammed a lifetime of paperwork generated by my writing fetish, thirty-five years worth of baseball card collecting, over 1,000 books (of which about a third of them I have read), a desk that is bigger than it ought to be, trophies, a television, cd player, cd collection, and of course the coveted laser printer/copier/fax machine. But a lot of my novels and stories have been packed away in boxes and piled up in the corner. After hauling out half of my baseball cards, transferred to a secure location on the other side of the wall in a hutch my mom gave me (the hutch, aside from the underneath section now serving as home for my baseball card doubles and triples, is home of the many plates I have collected from each state of the union that I have had the pleasure of visiting. There's about thirty of them, I think. Roughly.), I have squeezed in the cabinet. Bought it three days ago. I am just now able to begin filling it with my babies, and tossing out boxes.

Problem is, I'm the kind of person that has trouble throwing out things. But don't call me a pack-rat. I'll bite your nose. So, I'm sitting here deciding if to keep certain boxes.

As my wife would say, "Just throw it away. If you need one later, we'll go get one."

Of course, I still have to move slowly. The pain from the surgery a week ago still has me moving around like Grandpa Fred.