Last night, or maybe this morning, just about at midnight I came to a major realization: instead of going out and digging up some free liquor store boxes or something and hauling all these books I have to my storage unit in 90 degree heat, I could shove them under my bed.
So I did. Now there are a million hardback books under my bed. My room looks much neater. And Mom can’t ground me for it, either. (Once as a kid I got in major trouble for this. Today, I brag to her on ICQ that I did it. Ha! :P)
Is this mundane and pointless enough?