Somewhere, I forgot a big box of office supplies. The problem with this is that I will probably be in hot water over it. Once my employer, Gideon Mathis, discovers my colossal blooper, he'll blow a gasket. Never screw up. Everyone hates it.
The way to avoid the screw-ups and blunders is to write notes on colorful paper. Excellence demands such measures. My additional problem is that the little colorful paper thingies were in the box I forgot. Perhaps I'll find it, and I'll begin the new chapter of my life in which I write things on little colorful pieces of paper and I remember them. Life will be better. Everyone will love it.
Perhaps I will never find the box. It will have been picked up by a miscreant, or I will simply never remember where it is. Last year, some people I know but am not related to experienced this problem. Only they can express the pain I will feel, but they are dead. They are bodies in boxes. Soaking up the Earth.
