The week, in brief, was a fairly good one. For example, despite the best efforts of one person to twiddle his thumbs so long as to screw up something simple, we managed to get a briefing approved and given to people who can actually help us win support. And the day that the air conditioning failed - a day which just happened to set new records of miserable Washingtonian summer weather (97 degrees Fahrenheit, 97 per cent humidity) - was the day that I had to be out of the office for various other things anyway. I got a bit caught up on things at home, too. So I'm generally feeling less stressed.
One of those things at home that I caught up on has to do with index cards. I used to really love index cards and have all sorts of elaborate color-coded schemes for recording things on them. I still like them, largely because of the ease of sorting and rearranging things on them, but my fondness has been tempered over the years by their bulk. So, for example, I no longer keep my address book on index cards, but just keep myself resigned to crossing things out and periodically completely redoing the address book pages of my planner.
I still write down certain types of things on index cards, though. One of the bulkiest stacks of those - multiple stacks, actually - has been books to buy. When I see a book reviewed that I think sounds interesting, I write the title and author on an index card. If it's something obscure enough, I might write down the publisher or even the ISBN number. Sometimes I make a note in the corner that the book in question is nonfiction or fiction or even a specific genre of fiction.
All of this would be considerably more useful if I actually ever looked at the index cards after writing things on them.
This week, in a fit of organizational mania, I sorted through stacks of index cards. I checked them against my book index database on my computer. (Which includes information on where a given book is and has a separate file for books I've traded away or sold to the used book stores, by the way. No, I'm not compulsive, not at all.) I crossed off the fronts of cards for books I have (or had) and filed away the cards to use the backs of. I alphabetized, which is another act that I find pleasurable for reasons that are beyond any normal person's comprehension.
And, most amazingly, I actually took some cards with me to the used book store and used them to look for books I wanted. I did get a few other books, too, but I felt so nicely organized and efficient. Of course, books are even bulkier than index cards, so I'm not entirely convinced that this was a good thing, but it felt organized.
Some day, I have to write about my fondness for hanging file folders.
Copyright 2005 Miriam H. Nadel