Archetypes For The Turning Of The Year
For some people, New Years Day means the Rose Bowl. For others, black-eyed peas. For my mother, that was the day we were required to organize our clothes drawers.
Where did that come from? You got me. But it must be an archetypal response to the turning of the year. Right now advertising is crowded with sales on organizational supplies. If you don't know how to organize your sock drawer, surely there is one of those Dummies book to tell you how.
I just looked it up on Amazon.com. Sure enough, here it is.
Responding, I suppose, to that archetypal imperative, I am currently recycling meeting agendas, staff reports, conference handouts and class notes, things I no longer need since I have become unemployed.
You know me. Overboard is my middle name. At 100.4 pounds and still shedding -- make that shredding now -- old checks with my social security number on them, I am well on the way to my goal for the week: to shed my weight in discarded …
For some people, New Years Day means the Rose Bowl. For others, black-eyed peas. For my mother, that was the day we were required to organize our clothes drawers.
Where did that come from? You got me. But it must be an archetypal response to the turning of the year. Right now advertising is crowded with sales on organizational supplies. If you don't know how to organize your sock drawer, surely there is one of those Dummies book to tell you how.
I just looked it up on Amazon.com. Sure enough, here it is.
Responding, I suppose, to that archetypal imperative, I am currently recycling meeting agendas, staff reports, conference handouts and class notes, things I no longer need since I have become unemployed.
You know me. Overboard is my middle name. At 100.4 pounds and still shedding -- make that shredding now -- old checks with my social security number on them, I am well on the way to my goal for the week: to shed my weight in discarded …