Paper pusher

Yesterday at the McPolack homestead I clipped coupons, folded laundry, and lost my sh*&%t. It was, in other words, a typical visit.

I had my coupons in a business-sized envelope and had grabbed a few more from PolackPappy's desk. He saw what I had and asked "Do you need any more envelopes, kid?" I said yes. Hence the freezer bag pictured above.

I had my (metaphorical) sh*&t sprayed out all over the dining room table. And got some good advice. Tonight, I tried another 12-step meeting and it's one I'd actually go back to, and intend to, next week. So that was a good thing.

After handing over the envelopes, Pp asked if I needed any notepads. I said no, as I happen to have about fifty zillion of them in various states of use. Apparently Pp has a kazillion jillion of them, owing to GrandPp's tendency to, when drunk, which was often, write something in the page of one notebook, put it down, forget about it, then go out and buy another notebook the next time around. And also owing to that side of the family's inability to throw things of (sometimes questionable) value away. I regret a little bit not asking for some notepads because at this point they've probably gone from old to old enough to be cool, but I digress.

And here I digress a second time. When I was working at an alt weekly paper right out of college the Babcia sent me a bunch of old office supplies, as we were in startup mode. She included a note that read in part "Remember, kid, it ain't da education, it's da polish." At the time I took it to mean pole-ish, not paul-ish. It was many years before I realized she probably meant the latter.