If the Boss has no clue how disorganized I really am, itís only through dumb luck. So far, whenever heís called and asked for something, Iíve been able to find it in short order. That isnít because of my filing system, which is haphazard, or my memory, which is getting Swiss cheesy. Itís sheer luck, plus my talent for putting him off the scent. I mean, sometimes when thereís a little problem I canít solve, itís best to point out a bigger problem (especially if itís one that he can solve; he loves that).
Anyway, the Boss wasnít involved in todayís crisis. It was all of my own making, and it had elements of both the haphazard filing and the cheesy memory. In getting ready for the year-end forms I have to do this month, I needed last yearís 1099s and W-2s for The Kennel. For the construction company, Iíve been doing it for nearly twenty years, so I have a sort of a system (however haphazard and cheesy it might be). But last year was the first for The Kennel, and for the life of me I couldnít figure out what I did with my copies of those forms.
I looked. And looked and looked, using up all of the last half of the afternoon. I went through every pile of loose papers in my house, and that accounts for a lot of papers. I started with the place where I thought Iíd left the forms, and then moved on to where I should have put them, and by the end of the ordeal I was looking in places where they couldnít possibly be, not in a million years. And then I looked in all those places again.
When I found them (and I knew I would, because where could they go?), they were in fact in one of the file boxes Iíd already looked through at least twice. They were in a manila folder that wasnít labeled, but at least they werenít up in the loft in the stacks of credit card receipts from 1997, or in my bedroom under the pile of vintage magazines that I never got around to reading and never will.