Death by paperwork

In answer to those that think i only write about rainbows and sunshine, well, today is a full on gripe about paperwork.
I hate it. With an all consuming passion, i hate paperwork. And that includes most of my mail. Lord bless the post office, and my mom, and i'm sorry for being the daughter of a Postmaster who almost dreads the coming of the mailman... but there it is.

Of course, i don't hate letters, or packages, lest someone get the wrong idea. Send me those all day long. (no, really. Keep 'em coming.) But i get the most absurd mail for someone named Mr. Hollis H. Notgrass. Seriously. You'd think a marriage and a name change might have clued some people in to the fact that i am most definately not a "mister," but no luck. Between Mr. Hollis' mail, a TON of junk mail, and endless paperwork from my bank--although i've signed up for "paperless" bank statments more than once, along with the insane amount of handouts that the school somehow feels are important for me to have, in triplicate...i'm drowning in it.

Granted, some of it i do need... but i just hate sorting through it, figuring out a filing system, and all of that. Sooo adult, i know, i know... it just literally makes me ache to my very core. I cannot say it enough. I'd rather do mega-mountians of laundry. I'd even match socks. (OMG, i detest matching socks, and i'd seriously consider shelling out the $ for the sock-matching robot i heard about on NPR. No, really. there is one. See it here.)
Maybe it's the thought of actually siting down long enough to file it, or maybe it's the thought of moving it around later, i don't know.

I'd kind of hoped that getting married would mean i wouldn't have to do it anymore. Absurd, for sure, but i wistfully believed that perhaps he would be the yin to my yang and when it came to paying bills and organizing the stacks of paperwork that come along with being homeowners (and grad studends) he'd be all "OooOOooooH, it's my favorite time again! Wheeeeee!"
Alas... no such luck. *grumble*
So i'm stuck moving it from pile to pile, not sure where it's going to go, until i get fed up and stuff it in a drawer. There now. Out of sight, out of mind. Peeerrrrrfect. :)