I'm getting a new computer in a week or so; therefore, the next few days will be spent backing up data and double-backing stuff that MUST NOT BE LOST otherwise known as IRREPLACEABLE. There are reports and memos of understanding on the work side; there are journal entries and personal letters on the other side.

And then there is the mass of junk in the middle. So much of what I write is eminently forgettable. Lists of schools starting a new program; reminders to acquire data by a particular date; reports of those assigned, those covered, those open. Not only forgettable, but boring.

A few of them are totally incomprehensible. I guess I knew what I was saying at the time, but two years later who can tell? And who cares? My former boss used to insist that the second paragraph of a memo give a brief background of who, what, when, where, and why. Most of the time I do that, but I can see that there have been times when I have jumped into the middle of an issue and plowed onward, assuming that my readers had the requisite background.

They (and I) probably did at the time, but now it's just words on virtual paper. Delete is such a wonderful function.