It’s that time of year. Time to climb a questionably placed ladder up to the world’s stiffest loft hatch and venture into a dark and dusty domain ruled by house spiders that seem genetically closer to tarantulas. Each year, this ritual takes place. We emerge, cautiously, into the mostly unexplored territory of our loft floor’s beams. We remember the now-distant warnings from our guardians – “don’t tread between the beams or you’ll come through the ceiling”. Thanks, Mum. The pursuit of Christmas decoration boxes has begun.
The first challenge in our quest – finding the right boxes. We sit on the edge of the loft hatch, surrounded by dusty cardboard skyscrapers, and ask ourselves the age-old question: why have I done this to myself again?
We open the nearest box – one that hasn’t yet had others stacked upon it which is nothing short of a Christmas miracle. Or not. Photo albums from grandma’s house. Flicking through a few pages, and then a few more, we reminisce. We smile at the sight of Aunt Enid’s bottle-top glasses and suddenly, fourteen minutes have passed, and we are no closer to finding the decorations. The trance is broken, and we snap the photo album shut. Time for another box. This one feels more promising. Slightly less dusty than the others around it, and not too heavy. As we open the box, shining orbs of red and gold awaken the Christmas spirit inside us. The bauble box has been found.
The warmth of our victory is short-lived. The next three boxes contain what could well be thousands of old documents that a past version of our present selves complacently shoved into the loft in case they one day came in useful. A lie we told ourselves back then to avoid the boring task of shredding, come back to haunt us for another year. The next two boxes are the same. The disappointment is gruelling, and we wonder what possessed us to keep such a hoard of paperwork. Our mind wanders once again away from the Christmas decorations and to a loft, full of space, not a spider or sheet of paper in sight… We could even convert the loft into another bedroom… or a place to learn the bass guitar and become the world’s next Paul McCartney… if only these boxes of documents weren’t standing in the way of our path to greatness…
We snap back to reality and continue our task to find the decorations. After a further twenty-three minutes, all the decorations are out of the loft and in boxes on the living room floor. The ladder and loft hatch remain in place, ready for the empty boxes to return home… but something feels different this year. This year, the loft will be cleaned up. This year, our bass guitar-playing dreams will become a reality. We will get the documents down. All we need is to call that shredding company everyone is always telling us about… Ahh, that’s right. Shred Station.
If you want to give yourself the gift of a clutter-free Christmas this year, get in touch. We’ll have your documents destroyed in minutes – and our shredding elves will even provide you with a Certificate of Destruction for your peace of mind. A mind that can now focus on the important things… like finding the Christmas tree stand…
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