On Being Ridiculous


In sniffing around for a binder, I dis-covered this gem on my bookshelf. Hmmm. ONLINE FINDS.

I opened it up and gave way to guffaws.  Seriously, Carol?

Evidently, twelve years ago, I believed I could organize the universe (well, my universe, at least) by printing everything I thought was important, labeling the pages with a general category at the top, slipping them into page protectors and gathering them into a binder.

(under her breath) (…and leaving the binder on the bookshelf a dozen years…)

We didn’t know back then, did we, the transitory nature of the interwebs?

Or, perhaps I didn’t understand search engines?

And, since I’m in the posture of confession, I might as well tell you.  I do not have the capability within me to pitch the whole thing. No. I need to know what was important to me twelve years back. I’m going to set a timer. And be prepared to giggle.





6 thoughts on “On Being Ridiculous

  1. Right there with you! I found my collection of pages and few years ago, went through it (standing beside the trash can, I believe) and whittled the collection down to just a few pages *that might actually be useful* which slip into a binder pocket nicely. Now I need to go through those and and whittle some more. Love your “Carol’s Confessions”!

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