My life in shreds……

Do you see the resemblance?

Yep. That pile of erstwhile trees, and several more just like it, is my life alright. I have finally destroyed the paper trail that I have traveled for lo these many years. Talk about bittersweet.

We’ll be moving in June (soon to be a future blog) and rather than transport all the files full of old bills, transactions, tax forms, out-of-date legal documents, mortgage papers and personal correspondence, I decided to bring their existence to a merciful end. And thanks to a segment of our society that preys on the ID’s of others, I can’t just throw them in the recycle bin. For literally hours on end, my Fellowes Intellishred PS-79Ci devoured the more mundane moments of my life, 13 pages at a time. Ream upon ream of paper representing income and expenditures long ago forgotten by all but the ubiquitous IRS.

But don’t think for a minute that my life was interesting enough to produce all this. Included in here are the remnants of other lives. Family members who in their last years counted on me to conduct their daily business and affairs. While I did this willingly, it certainly put extra stress on my less than stellar organizational skills, not to mention my file cabinet.

I am glad I will finally have less clutter and more storage space, but it’s sadly ironic that these life stories that took so long to live out can be extinguished so easily and quickly. The sweat and tears that produced these records now serve only to lubricate the grinding jaws of the shredder as it hums its steady tune of indifference.

Slowly over the years, much like some of you, I have converted almost all that is me into some digital form. Pictures, documents, correspondence, etc. are now all huddled cozily in their own little flash drive, just waiting to see the light of day again. The lucky ones will get that long-anticipated call from the wireless printer, freeing them to once again manifest themselves in tangible form to define my very being.

As for the colorful agglomerate that was my former life, I hope it will recycle, nay, reinvent itself into the pages of some best-selling novel. My suggestion for the title: “Big Al Was Here.”