stapletation

so, yesterday (being sick, and inexplicably going to work anyways), i had a zillion errands to run in the evening. in a wave of self-pity and desire to get my shrinking skin into some flannel, i cut that zillion down to three manageable errands that all occurred in the same area of town (vital for those of us sans auto) and that would (supposedly) demand little of my time or energies.

i stopped by the gym to discuss whether or not i still maintained a membership there, despite my refusal to attend (or pay) for the past four months. the answer was, bizarrely, yes.

i dropped of a (three-weeks overdue) video. thanks, no-late-fees.

i stopped by staples to get the photos for our invitations printed. one hundred four-by-four prints, four to a page, equals twenty-five eight-and-a-half-by-eleven prints, with some room in the margins. staples does these for cheap. howEVER, they charge you a dollar per cut to cut them out for you, and since these photos were tricky business, they recommended that i cut them one sheet at a time, since their paper-cutter had a tendency to slide. that's nine cuts per sheet, times twenty-five sheets, equals two hundred and twenty-five cuts, equals two hundred and twenty-five dollars.

or

i could cut them out myself.

do you know how long takes to make two hundred and twenty-five cuts? an hour. an hour! that's EIGHTY-SIX YEARS IN SICK-TIME!!! the fellow at staples was kind enough to let me use their fine paper-cutting device, so at least i wasn't stuck at home hacking away with my safety scissors, but i shiverred and coughed and sneezed out little bits of photo paper and got dirty looks from the staples-girl for phlegming on their equipment, all for the sake of a fine invitation.

the point of this post, i guess, is this. if you get an invite, count yourself lucky. not because you get to partake of the splendor that will be my wedding, but because what you hold in your hands represents the sweat of my brow, and the expectoration of my lungs. if your picture has a scrap of white border on the edge that i failed to cut off, or if the slice isn't exactly even, don't mention it. i will open-handed slap you, on my wedding day.