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Because I wanted to stay in extreme temperature shape, I even spent ninety minutes in the garage this evening -- the thermometer read 108 when I started -- sorting through what I charitably refer to as "my archives" and then assembling a rolling cart for hanging file folders without any help at all. This may not seem like a big deal to you. But if you knew how easy it was to lose control of that sort of undertaking in the Nicolini-Bertsch household, where she-of-impossibly-high-standards takes command at the slightest provocation, you would be impressed with my autonomy and stealth. I even had to fetch the toolbox!
Better still, the cart I put together came from a box I'd been moving around since 1997. Back then I bought another cart, which Kim assembled, and decided that it was so handy that I purchased a back-up. For years I've been trying to keep the box out of Kim's line of vision, fearful that she would insist I finally donate it to Goodwill. When she has seen it and, understandably, informed me that my likelihood of ever using it was miniscule, I've responded that I was saving it for the day when I would suddenly turn its potential energy into actual utility.
Well, guess what? Today is that day! It now sits handsomely in the garage, full of various empty file folders that I will soon deploy in my reorganization of my home office. Things are changing around here. I'm taking the Allen wrench by the hand. I'm going to screw things into place. If you're nice to me, I might even let you watch.
Tags: autobiography, home, humor
Mode: salt-deprived
Muse: the washing machine
