Pushing Paper

I hate paperwork: always have, always will. It’s tedious, redundant, and can mess up your whole damn life if it’s done incorrectly, making it time-consuming as anything on top of everything else. In all fairness, I probably wouldn’t loathe it as much as I do if I hadn’t encountered so much of it in my life, but between job applications, health forms, lease agreements, surveys, standardized tests, and really anything that asked for my last name first, The Man has enough files on me to paper the walls of the Taj Mahal, were he so inclined.

As you might have guessed, a lot of my distaste comes from a really mature place. When given the task of filling out a simple form, I regress.


Yeah, a bit like that.

But it’s a part of life, and will be until one of the apocalypses from the movies happens. Fair enough. Besides, as I learned this week, sometimes paperwork isn’t so bad.


Photo on 4-20-12 at 7.42 PM #3

On the top right is my certificate for the Dean of Student’s Roll of Honour, which is a piece of paper that says I done good by the college community. I had to fill out forms, print things, and talk to people to get it, but it looks super official, unlike that awful face I always seem to make when in front of a camera.

Under it is my current favorite piece of paper: my last will and testament, as drawn up by my fantasmagorical housemate Éadaoín. Turns out that you can just buy fill-in-the-blanks versions from stationary shops. It was supposed to be part of my birthday present, but I got it a little early because I was having a rough week and because she is great. I don’t think it’s legally binding since one of my executors is a fictional character, the husbands and children listed don’t exist yet (so far as I know), and my signature is forged. I’ll talk to my lawyer. I’ll get a lawyer.

On the left is a Starbucks giftcard. I filled out no paperwork for that and I don’t drink coffee. It came with a really sweet thank-you note from a nice lady in Arkansas whose daughter stayed with us for a couple of days. I wanted to show off her really schwanky writing paper with her name embossed on the top, but I figured that was something I’d have to ask her permission for. So, this is me saying, “Trust me–it’s nice,” as well as, “Please help me spend this card because I just can’t do it alone.”

Now that I’ve tempted you all to plot my demise so that you can get your fair share of my estate, and broken the main rule of elementary school survival (“Never reveal your full name.”), it’s time to tell you that I’m going to do another giveaway very soon. Probably tonight. Watch this space if you like free things, getting packages, and procrastination.

3 thoughts on “Pushing Paper

  1. Pingback: Poetry Month: Day Twenty-Six | Elizabeth O'Connell-Thompson

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