Of Files and Folders and Filing Cabinets

The file folder was not being used as a flashcard, just as scrap paper. The ten small words were just jotted on the back of the file folder.

There appears to be some confusion if the tenth word was 'is' or 'an'.

The file folder was labelled thusly:

And it has such valuable things as my bills for all twelve terms I attended good old PSU, info on every place I have worked and most places I have applied, the rough draft of my first cover letter handwritten and edited on notebook paper, my first resume typed on a typewriter, test scores from my registry exam, and a hand written note of encouragement from Dr. Glenn V. Tingley. It also has a page where I had written my name and the STP's name over and over in different colors of pen and markers. I suppose I was 20 years old, thinking that I would marry my prince and we would live happily ever after and I would never really have to have a real job. (Which is kind of how it has worked out...)

As an addendum to the filing post...

Yesterday the crazy barking dog (CBD) and I drove Alex to school. Upon our return, on my way through the big room, I noticed the STP had left a file drawer hanging open. (Leaving drawers open is unusual behavior only for the STP around here) So as I walked by, I pushed it shut. But the string from the bottom of my jacket got caught in the drawer. And when I tried to open the drawer, it was locked. So I saw the button with the lock, and I thought ...

PUSH IT! and before I remembered that that is a bad idea, I had pushed it. Which as you probably know (and I do now) locked the drawer for real. And so I had to call the STP and tell him that I had accidently locked my jacket in his filing cabinet. And neither of us thinks there is a key. But the STP is an amazingly understanding and talented man--able to remove stuck jackets from locked cabinets in a single bound. Looks like I was right about him 30 years ago.

Now I am going to find my markers and doodle his name on the back of the cable bill.