The other day I bought a 2008 planner and it's made me happier than you can imagine. It's essentially given me something to do. And it's pink. Leather-bound. EMPTY. That's, like, a whole year of things to do! Or, an entire year of empty pages with which I can write things like, "Dad's b-day," or "Dr appt 2 p.m."
And these are the things that excite me.
Seeing as though my extensive list of addresses for anyone I'd ever come into contact with was sitting neatly on my desk at work when I left (for good, whoops), this empty 2008 planner with neatly alphabetized pages for addresses is begging to be filled.
And so I've been emailing everyone I know and begging for addresses. Not that I really have anything to do with these addresses once I have them. I mean, sure, Christmas cards, but, well, after that? They're just going to look nice and organized in my new, empty, pink 2008 planner. Just how I like it. Because I'm anal. And like contact information. And alphabetization.
This way I also know how to find each and every person I know in case I have the strong desire to leave a flaming bag of dog shit on someone's porch. Of course I wouldn't leave it on yours, though.