I’m a piler. As in, I make piles. And my piles, I tell you, are organized. I know what is where in which pile. If you move my piles, I KNOW.
I’ve always been a piler. Pretty sure I will forever be a piler.
When I worked my crazy downtown job, my office was wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling piles. People would give me a hard time about my piles, but I could find stuff. And I remembered nearly everything. Year, client, issue, what people wore in the meeting. No, I’m not kidding.
Today I went through a mail pile. That was by the front door. Most of it was sent to the recycle bin. Some was tax related stuff I need for filing 2013 taxes. I was a good little organizer and put those in a file folder that I labeled, wait for it, Taxes.
I got a replacement debit card, new HSA cards and a few paper bills (mostly of the medical variety). The rest? Junk. I’ve got to figure out how to get off of those lists.
Am I the only piler out there?