Mr. Long Paw
In which Mr. Long Paw enjoys a chair that has finally become a chair again.
Did you ever have a chair that you couldn't actually use as a chair because it was loaded down with stuff? I have such a chair. It is a comfy chair, with a cozy blanket on it. And it sits to the left of the main table that we use for dining, that my computer sits on, that we use for practically everything that needs to be done. You could see how a spot next to such a table might become a locus of accumulation.
And so it did. The piles of paper grew higher. (I've thought of reasons why this happens, but I'll skip all of that. It turns out that they're all excuses anyway. Of course I and I alone am accountable for each and every mess that I have ever made.) The chair accused me every time I saw it. Looking at the grand stack of random accumulated stuff made me feel bad about myself. All those papers - something needed to be done. And to top it off, the chair was not being used as a chair; it was not fulfilling its essential task.
On this day, I suddenly realized that I was tired of it all. I'd had enough. And so I decided to take action! I finally got to spend a morning at home, and Dexter the Tabby, aka Mr. Long Paw, helped me get better organized so that the chair could become a chair once again, so that people (and cats) could actually sit on it! So first thing in the morning, we removed the stacks of stuff. And we took them into the bedroom, which had a freshly made bed where we could work unhindered. And we sorted.
We sorted out magazines, and charity mailings, and junk mail, and papers and lists of all kinds. Almost all of my magazine subscriptions come due in October, so some tough decisions were needed. I decided to renew two of my magazines and let two others go. I opened all of the charity mailings and made about $1.65 on the deal. Why some charities put a quarter or a dime inside the mailer to encourage me to give THEM money, I'll never understand. Why don't they just keep their money (for surely all those dimes and quarters add up) and stop asking me for mine?
I am happy to report that in about two hours, we had things under control. The magazines were neatly stowed in a small box that I placed by my living room chair. The various charity mailings and pieces of junk mail were sorted, reviewed, recycled. Things were placed with like things; they were placed where they BELONGED. I felt like Mary Poppins, in some odd derivative version of that tidy-up-the-nursery game that always amazed me. OK, so I'll admit that Dexter and I didn't sing and dance, but we were happy in our work. It was a Saturday. We were unfettered. We finally had the time and the energy (for my best energy is my morning energy, which I hardly ever get to use for my own tasks, as I work full-time) to make a difference.
And so the chair . . . well, it became a chair again. And we delighted in the outcome. Not just for the sake of this particular chair, of course, but for what it symbolized: success! And freedom from the tyranny of papers! And hope . . . that this could be a starting point for even more tidying-up work around the rest of the house. I looked at the chair when I was done, and I was happy. And so was Dexter. In fact, he was so happy that he jumped into the chair. And he spend the rest of the day and evening napping in the chair! SUCCESS! Let us all celebrate!
The song to accompany this long-pawed image is a favorite tune by Dan Fogelberg. For I submit to you that NOBODY's paw is longer than this one. I present to you: Mr. Long Paw. And a song to go with that long paw: Dan Fogelberg, with Longer.