Remains of a grocery list, a crown from a Christmas cracker, and a recent sermon.

THE JOYS OF SHREDDING PAPER

Since Bath and Northeast Somerset has a rather advanced recycling programme, Maurene and I decided that we needed to get a paper shredder as a preventive step against 'identity theft.' Although, I still can't figure out why anyone would want to lay claim to my identity.

I travelled to the local PC World and purchased an inexpensive home paper shredder. The designated purpose of this piece of technology was to cut documents containing personal information into tiny strips. So, I got home, unpacked the shredder, plugged it in, and gave it a test run. I ran a few bank statements and old utility bills through the working end of the shredder and was delighted to see a nifty little pile of indecipherable confetti resting in the basket below.

I suddenly realised that shredding paper is as addictive as popping the pockets of air in bubble wrap. I was soon racing about the house finding any scrap of unused or unessential paper that happened to be laying around. Bulletin boards were emptied, Christmas cards were mangled, and to insure that the machine would operate as the manufacturer said it would a few stapled documents met their demise in this wonderful new toy. I felt like an accountant at Enron or an aide in the Nixon White House. I now find myself looking at table and desk tops in a new way. I now find myself regretting the inevitable move toward the paperless office. Deleting files from a disk will never be as satisfying as running paper through a shredder.