Yes, I entered the “rolling cart of uncertainty.” Since schools were closed last spring and book fairs were canceled, my little survival cart for setting up the fairs had been in the garage, collecting dust. And spider sacs full of babies. And dead moths. Yesterday was the self-proclaimed D-Day.
The first order of business was to bring the cart into the kitchen and empty it on the floor for pestilence mitigation. The warmth brought out the little spiderlings quite nicely, and I was able to peacefully obliterate them, sans icky squishing sounds on the bottom of my shoes. Hosing down the cart, I resumed sorting and tossing the miscellany.
There was enough junk in there to help me survive a year underground in any unfortunate emergency. I don’t think I used anything I had in there for seven years, other than the extra plastic bags for books. Oh – and the scissors embellished with my name. They actually were lost for a year, but faithfully returned the following year when I visited the sight of the unintentional theft.
Thus, I’m donating a bag of office supplies somewhere, as well as the nine pads of sticky notes, and keeping the rolling cart indoors. I’m thinking of wearing my previously misplaced photo ID tag out in public, just to give people an idea of what I look like without a mask.
Maybe we should all wear a photo ID? And if we do, we can choose a photo at least ten years old for additional ego boosting benefits. Brilliant idea #117.
EW WHY WOULD YOU EMPTY IT OUT IN THE KITCHEN