Tuesday

There's always a point in every move when one must spend several hours in front of the old shredder. I reached that point today. Since I had plenty of time to think, I thought about working at Kinko's. For the first time since retirement, I was doing something that really reminded me of that, specifically the legal jobs that were the Kinko's experience's absolute low-point: reaching into boxes, pulling out folders of folded and stapled receipts and things, carefully taking them apart--making sure everything was there--and feeding them into a machine. At Kinko's I was, of course, copying them, sometimes numbering those copies, tallying them up, and then putting them all back together, staples and all, into folders into boxes the way I found them. Today, I was ripping them to shreds and baling them up in puffy wads. As my mind drifted, I actually found that pretending I was in Kinko's again, utterly destroying some important towering stack of full disclosure, made today's job a lot more fun. Tomorrow, a team of movers show up around nine am, and the whole process starts in earnest. I'm looking forward to it. By the weekend, there will very little left for me to worry about. Then you will hear all about cleaning the place and after that I will whine about leaving this all behind. In the news: seems as if president Fox fainted at his Guanajuato ranch over the weekend.* Pundits blame the heat; and in any event the ambulance that streaked to his rescue took him to his house instead of a hospital. Fox is only president until Friday, anyway. His successor, Felipe Calderón, named his interior minister today. Apparently this left the Mexican legislature so divided that they began slapping and pushing one another.* [Cavin]