Efficiency

Ads proclaiming a "Free Shredding Event" appeared in the newspaper for about three weeks, inviting us to bring as many as ten file boxes of papers to the Home Depot today (Saturday.) "Ah," thought I, "Now's the time to get rid of 20 years' worth of outdated papers. I'll clean out my huge Boeing Surplus file cabinet and have room for the next 20 years worth of stuff!" (The possibility of not accumulating more papers didn't even enter my mind.)

Feeling proud and efficient, I tried to open one of the four file drawers. No luck. I looked up at the key slot. No key! Then I remembered. A friend sent me one of those internet things designed to inform (or terrify) you. I think the theory is once you have this invaluable information, bad things won't happen and you'll be eternally grateful to the person who sent it. This one was called "13 Things a Burglar Won't Tell You." Reading it caused me to pull the key out of the file cabinet and hide it in a safe place--not my usual sock drawer. (Item #10 on the burglar's list: "Do you really think I won’t look in your sock drawer?') Unfortunately, I have no clue where I hid the key. I looked everywhere I could think of--but then, I'm not an experienced burglar. Maybe I could ask one to come find it for me . It would probably take about four minutes.

I don't know how much it costs to have papers shredded, but "free" sounded much better than whatever the price is. I called Jake the Locksmith. He wanted $70 to open the file cabinet, and another $15 to make keys. EasyKeys.com offered the key online for $10. This was more like it! I could still have my satisfying exercise in efficiency! Unfortunately, the three-day service I ordered might not get me the key until Monday. [Sigh.] Unwilling to pay for faster service, I just hoped for the best.

Oh, joy! The key arrived yesterday afternoon! I put off until this morning the job of pulling the papers out of file cabinet because...well, because I'm a procrastinator. I felt proud and efficient as I purged two file drawers within 40 minutes and filled my used Trader Joe's paper sacks. I jumped in the car and raced to Home Depot.

The lack of a large truck with a Shred-It logo on the side was my first clue. The second was when none of the helpful guys in orange aprons knew what I was talking about. It finally dawned on me--I was at the wrong Home Depot! (I live between two of them.) I felt myself deflating. I'm surprised I didn't fly all over the room backwards as all that efficiency pride whooshed out of me . It was too late, of course, to make it to the other store in time. Head drooping, tail between legs, I dragged myself back to my car.

The Trader Joe's bags are still in the trunk. I guess I'm going to find out how much it costs to have documents shredded. Or, I could hunch for hours over the tiny shredder that straddles the top of my office trashcan. Naw. If it burned up halfway through, I might run screaming from the room. The houses here are only about 10 feet apart and we all have our windows open in the 75-degree weather. My neighbors are sure to call someone official, and I have no desire to meet my local constabulary under those circumstances!