When the disorganized get going

So, I started out the day with a simple plan…find the title to my Camaro, so I could sell her. You would think this would be easy. And in anyone else’s house, it probably would be. You see, I am a packrat. No, I am queen of the packrats. Even that doesn’t quite embody the sheer volume of crap I’ve accumulated. Ok, have you ever been to the Smithsonians? I have that much crap. No, I’m serious…I think I might have a 57 Chevy somewhere in a closet. I had to buy a house with 3 more bedrooms than there are people, just to hold all the crap…and it’s still stacked ceiling high in some rooms. I cannot be trusted at garage sales, flea markets, estate offerings, or anyplace that offers 2 for 1 deals. I just can’t.

Anyway, so I’m looking for the title…and I start in logical spots…like the folder in the filing cabinet marked “Camaro”…because, damn it, that’s where it should be. It wasn’t. I did, however, have a receipt from a car wash in 1996. So, should I ever need to prove that she was clean…that I can do.

Now, here’s where things got tricky…I decided to start unpacking boxes, the contents of which have not seen daylight since the last century, when I paid off the car. The problem is that those boxes were under other boxes. And those other boxes had toys…like I found my MacSE, circa 1980-something…so I naturally had to take it out and see if it would still bootup. (It did…but the hard drive is dead, so then I started looking for the disks to see if I could find a boot disk. I didn’t.) Then I found an old 486, and I had to try and start it up. (It didn’t.) So, then I had to take all the peripherals out and play with those for a while…because, really…I’m like that.

Then, I found an unmarked mystery box up high on a shelf. Well, who could avoid playing with that, I ask you? When I moved it, it started talking…and even spookier, it said…and I quote; “Me No Like! Me No Like!”. So, I’m standing there, with this 50 pound box over my head, trying to figure out if I’m about to have a Chucky moment. (It turns out there was a furbee in there…and the damn thing wouldn’t shut up. I finally wrapped it in something and hid it in the back of the closet. It still took it 10 minutes to stop saying it was hungry. Spooky damn thing.)

Now, I have the parts of multiple computers, 4 keyboards, 2 monitors, a bag from the Bahamas, ancient speakers and one fluffy white cat lying casually on the floor of my office. And I never did find the title. Which brings me to today’s poll:

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