A Paper Trail

It’s good to leave a paper trail at work, evidence that we’ve been effective and we have the data to prove it. At home, not so much. The last thing I want to see on my kitchen counter when I get home from work is a pile of papers. Each day, as my sweet husband goes through the mail, it is his intent to organize it. He makes for himself not one, but four piles. Piles I am supposed to be able to identify and take action on. Ask me if I can identify which is which.

For me, the first sign that my house is in disarray: PAPER. Paper everywhere. Between kid crafts and junk mail, I am fighting a losing battle. This week, I set boundaries. If you want to live in my house, all unaccounted for paper must be confined to a lovely, vintage locker basket.

This label and its locker basket make me happy for paper, if only to drop it into my new “Inbox.” From there, it gets placed in one of three files: Do Now, Do Later, or File. And Brandon can take it from there.

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