I cherish the fond illusion that I file/recycle/toss paperwork every 3-6 months, but the evidence suggests otherwise. Very otherwise. However, today I have tackled stacks of paper. As usually happens when things pile up for long enough, I have been able to recycle large quantities, including early drafts of two essays for which I have now corrected proofs, print-outs of conference papers given three and four years ago, and receipts associated with those conferences.
Still on my desk:
*a program from a conference four years ago, in a place I particularly enjoyed;
*instructions for my phone. which I seem to have got on quite well without;
*a two-year pocket calendar for 2014-2015;
*a postcard from Hull;
*a paper written by a graduate student for a course I taught, which I think I kept because in theory I am on the student’s dissertation committee (in practice, I don’t think the student has submitted any work yet);
*receipts from this year’s stay in Kalamazoo;
*a stack of references to things I mean to read for scholarly purposes;
*a set of newspaper clippings referring to books I have thought of reading for pleasure, along the lines of Val McDermid’s Northanger Abbey and Her Brilliant Career;
*a handout from a paper at this year’s K’zoo with my notes connecting the paper to one I’m thinking of writing;
*a check re-order form;
*an important piece of paper I should have put in my safe deposit box four years ago but which at this point is probably irrelevant;
*a chapter draft with marginal comments from discussion with my writing group;
*the label with which to return printer ink cartridges for recycling;
*a certificate, in Spanish and English, testifying to my having given a paper at a conference in a Spanish-speaking country.
Snapshot of my desk/life.