Flashes of Panic

I cleared the last folder in my file cabinet tonight, the one optimistically labeled “Miscellaneous.” Lots of tickets to long-ago concerts and soccer games (Metrostars vs. Revolution! The Hershey Wildcats!) and programs from (and invitations to) various weddings.

I laughed several times when flipping through the sub-folder of stuff formerly located in the cubicle of my previous job; I kept a lot of goofy stuff there. My personal Dilbert greatest-hits stash. Photocopies of some surreal eighties-era running shoe ads (including Khrushchev banging his shoe on the U.N. lectern, with “These shoes hurt!” in Russian as the head.)

On the other side, I found my draft card. I appear to have passed “draft age.” I wonder if I should update my address, though.

Now Playing: 99% from Grave Dancers Union by Soul Asylum