I decided to try the whole planning-a-novel-on-index-cards-thing, so I bought a new cork board to hold them. I already had one in the office, but I decided I needed more space.
The small one is for mere mortals.
I had to move the front seats of the car forward, collapse the back seats, and was barely able to squeeze the trunk shut. The board came from our local Ikea-knockoff, so its size was given in centimeters, and I’m a bad Canadian and suck at metric but I’m thinking it’s at least four and a half feet tall. Maybe five.
I lugged it through the back door. My husband was gaming on the couch in the living room, and when he saw my new monstrosity he just laughed.
“That’s ridiculous! That thing’s HUGE! You could use it as a sled.”
“Or hold it over your head for a parachute…or use it to build an addition on the house…”
“Parasail…area rug…bet it won’t fit up the stairs.”
I rolled my eyes, asked him to kindly shut the fuck up, and went to carry it upstairs. I managed to put a ding in the wall, which made him laugh so hard I thought he’d pee himself.
I love my new cork board. It will be the answer, I know it. I’m guessing this thing’ll hold about 60 index cards, which should get me through just fine (ha!).
I told a coworker about it, and without missing a beat she said, “Flotation device in a flood.”
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