The One With the Irony

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So, today in work I had to email a document over to somebody important. I was supposed to do it yesterday but ran out of time* (read couldn’t find it). This morning when I decided I really did need to send it, could I find it still…NO. I literally spent an hour and a half going through every single folder on my desktop and the shared drive looking for it and it is nowhere to be seen. WHAT THE HELL HAVE I DONE WITH IT!!

Let me take you back to Friday; Friday afternoon to be precise, the hot summers day before the bank holiday weekend and an extra day’s lie-in. Being the only one in my office that afternoon I was terribly productive (the downside of having no one to talk to about Christmas, Marc Jacobs or my most recent fave topic…Paris!) Anyways, on Friday I decided that in order to spend less time searching for documents, I should have a better filing system, with appropriately named folders and titled documents. One hour later (at 5.25pm on a Bank Holiday weekend, might I add) I had finished and was extremely proud of myself. “That one hour has saved me so much time in the future” I boasted that evening. HOW WRONG WAS I?

Ironic really isn’t it.

I mean, this is my life. Do something to save me time, only to spend more time the following week trying to undo the mess that the supposedly time saving task has caused. So, this has been me today. Frantically searching and trying to undo everything that I did in my one hour of filing productivity last week. The day is over now and I still haven’t found what I’ve been looking for – if you sing that it makes me feel better about the whole situation.

So today I made some decisions.

  1.  I should definitely NOT file things appropriately – chaos and badly named files obviously works for me – and if it’s not broken; why fix it!
  2. I should quit, move to New York City and become a writer or open a cupcake café*.

*Either/or really.

I’ll probably pick the one that pays the best to be honest – that way I can afford to buy more shoes and hopefully not have to use my credit card. Ha. No, in all seriousness, I must reprimand myself for even daring to think like this. After all, isn’t that what credit cards are for? Shoes.

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