One year, eight months, 16 days
I've been a widow now for one year, eight months, and sixteen days. Twenty months and two weeks, if you call it by the way...
…. it’s just that for a long time I didn’t have time and energy to do it — the math problem is (space to spread out papers) plus (is there a cat sleeping on top of my top-loading filing box) plus (how much time is this going to take) divided by (how much time do I actually have today) equals “slap another box on top of that bitch”.
One day.
ONE DAY!
My filing’s backed up, too. I set a timer for 15 minutes and just file for 15 minutes each day. I’ve really made headway. Sometimes I turn on Terry Gross on the radio at noon and file for an hour, listening. It helps. Love, Aunt Gay
I could pop in and file for you on my way by in the fall but the cats might be the death of me. 😉