Update

[desperance]

This morning I baked a loaf, but do not shout at me! For lo, I did not knead it! Not at all!

I used the dough hooks that came with my hand mixer, that I had entirely forgotten about. I liked nothing about this process; it feels awkward and difficult and fundamentally wrong. It might be better with a more powerful mixer, but I'm not prepared to bet fifty quid on that, which is what it would cost.

However, the bread's okay. So yes, I shall be good for a while.

While the bread was proving and baking, I cleared a lot of stuff in the office, so that when Mark came back at midday we could do some more heavy shifting, this to there and that to the other corner and so on.

For those of you who were anxious, do not shout at me! We did not put the printer on the double-stacked filing cabinets! I evolved an alternative solution overnight, of the which I shall show you photos when I can find my camera. Which has, surprise, been Put Somewhere. Hmmm.

So: I have many empty shelves and many full boxes, and a classic opportunity to sort through all my shit and throw a lot of it out. I did actually try to apply myself to that exact task, with a small boxful of papers: only it turned out that I wanted to keep almost all of them. Sigh. That's not how it was supposed to go, y'know...?

I've just spotted an old packet of typing-paper that I know for a fact I've owned for at least thirty years. How do I know this? It's quarto. When did you last see a sheaf of quarto?

I'll never use it, obviously, for that exact same reason; but I don't suppose I'll ever throw it out. That's a survivor from my teenage, that is. It's practically a relic.

Comments

[moral-vacuum.livejournal.com]

There are proper keepsakes and nostalgia-inducing items, and conversely there is the pathological need to hoard, and whilst suffering from this you will make up excuses as to why you're keeping things.

To see which category you fall under, carefully consider your reaction to the following phrase: IT'S A WAD OF PLAIN PAPER FER CHRISSAKES, GET A F***ING GRIP AND THROW IT AWAY.

I say this as a fellow sufferer who is in the early stages of recovery.

[desperance.livejournal.com]

It's a wad of paper. Even ignoring the historical/nostalgic interest, how can I throw it away? I might suffer from an extreme paper shortage, or some other sudden need. I am storing up treasure in heaven. As it were. And being ecologically sound, for there is carbon bound up in that there paper. Etc.

And I have always known that I was a pathological hoarder. I don't even need to gaze around my house with the eyes of a stranger; I am too too familiar with the symptoms, and the diagnosis.

[frumpo.livejournal.com]

Ah, but if you were to suffer an extreme paper shortage would you be able to locate the wad again?
Perhaps if you file it next to the eight million jiffy bags.