There are certain undeniable truths. One is that no matter how detestable the job may seem, once the spring cleaning is tackled, we feel better, more relieved, a sense of peace restored.
Another truth that must be admitted is this--what is good for the windows, the closets, those nasty under-the-kitchen-sink-where-you-hope-no-one-will-look-until-after-you're-dead places, also applies to the computer.
You know what I mean. . .
Like a big hunk of Triple-Decker Devil's food cake, the cartoon that gave you but momentary pleasure has left a permanent imprint on your hard-drive's hips.(Poor analogy perhaps, but work with me here.)
I generally keep about ten active files under the "My Documents" header. I can no longer even find those ten folders because they are buried betwixt photo files of cats dressed up in Halloween costumes, remnants of crashed cars cars claimed to have been parked by obviously insane women, (I question this. . .), and ninety-three down-loaded chain letters making promises of wealth and happiness if I send them to seven friends, including the sender; or death and poverty if I fail to comply within ten minutes. (You might not want to stand too close to me for the next little while.)
So why do I bother opening them, you might ask? They gobble up precious work time, clog my files and threatened to infect my already crippled computer with deadly viruses. Why indeed . . . it's a sickness.
So today, I'm cleaning house. I'm deleting every Jib Jab political lampoon video; obliterating every picture of cute little things that aren't a part of my traceable bloodline, and yes, that includes Coco the disco-dancing Cockatiel.
It's a tough world, and it must be done.