Ever since the news broke about microwave popcorn being really, really bad, I have been appalled…  disgusted…  and fighting a raging appetite for none other than microwave popcorn.  I’m eating some as I write, but it’s the good kind — hardly flavored, Wild Oats brand.

Go figure.  I’m not too worried.  I figure I was raised on air-popped popcorn (made beautifully every Sunday with this), so I can make up for a little lost time (and chemicals) now that I’m older.  I wonder how horrifying it would be to have a physician ask, “This might sound crazy, but do you _____?” and be right on.  Horrifying and yet comforting, as though your body and mind were only a riddle to be solved.

That aside, I’ll get to the point.  I am a bit of a packrat.  Any of you who have visited my apartment know I have a little book problem.  And I have trouble throwing away clothes, even if I haven’t worn them for years.  But did you know about my greeting card problem?  Here it is…  I have grand intentions of being a thoughtful person.  You have no idea how many cards I’ve bought (probably even for you) that I have never sent.  This is such a problem that the largest file in my filing cabinet (bigger than the ones for Wells Fargo or Manuals/Warranties, even) is my [cards] file.  I put brackets around the name because I haven’t actually labeled this file — to do so would be to admit I have a problem.  Instead I just know that the thick, blue file between Car Receipts and Chase is for [cards].

In it:  Wedding cards, birthday cards, get well cards, I miss you cards, blank notes, stupid cards, funny cards, and cards that used to be funny a decade ago and are no longer.  I even have two copies of one card about party stains on striped shirts.  This file makes me feel like a little bit of a jerk — first because I never sent any of these cards to the people for whom they were intended, and second because to give them to someone for whom they were not intended feels cheap and false.  Sure, we all have birthdays every year, so that’s less of an issue, but I can’t just wait for so-and-so to get sick again to give them their get well card.  And it would be wrong to recycle a wedding card for someone’s second wedding (god forbid there are seconds!) if the card was intended for the first partner.

I could just throw them away, but if I spend about $3 on every card I buy, that’s about $90 I’m throwing away.   So I keep them in an unmarked file and resolve to be more resolved about sending them.



Filed under food, Life, Money

2 responses to “Confessions

  1. By my calculations, you have about 7300 bags to go before you get the dread “popcorn lung.” I would even wager that you can take a face and noseful of buttery steam when you open the bag and still be okay.

    Bon appetit!

  2. Sam

    I heart your writing. Sigh.

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