I opened the enormous, heavy box with the gigantic new shredder in it and somehow dragged it over to an outlet. At first, nothing happened. I played with it a while, read the directions again, and then, suddenly, I spied a little button on the side that had not been turned on, and pushed it.
The shredder erupted in a great growl, not like the little chihuahua of a shredder that I have now, with its shrill staccato barking, a half-hearted and labored effort to reduce the stuff from my files to nothing but tiny julienned squares that get buried in the carpet and float in the air like so much confetti. This thing took it all on, and hardly broke a sweat. Though I have been warned to limit myself to 5 minute shredding-fests, I think this will be sufficient, since in that time, it eliminated an entire basketful (and a large basket at that). Not that I don't have much more to do, but I feel quite a bit lighter at heart to see things disappear from the vicinity of the tiny computer area trash bin, swallowed up in the kitchen trashcan, where I need not worry about it any more.
4 comments:
A good shredder is a thing of joy!
Yo dude! Shred fest?
(my husband is addicted
to the process with all the
noise and power it takes to make things disappear in front of your very eyes)
I'm in, got some time to spare
tomorrow...so let's do it!
Sounds good to ME Liz! By the way, I sent Haley Nguyen two emails and called and left a message too about that cooking class. Finally, she called me back, very apologetically. But I don't think she wants to enlarge the class. She didn't say no, but that's the impression I got.
I am going to Bob's class tomorrow. Hope to see you there.
Oh. Just remembered I have a 2:00 appointment tomorrow. You can come over before that though. Or after.
Yes Lou. I was reading in your blog about how you delegated the job to your grandson. Sounds like a plan.
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