19. Think Inside The Box
Meryl tried in vain to suppress the sobs that wracked her shoulders, slamming the door behind her. The force was enough to knock a picture off the wall, the glass shattering and splintering all over the floor. She didn't notice.
She looked widely around as she stood in the middle of the bedroom of the small house, wiping clumsily at her face. Her gaze fell on the desk, and a thin smile traced her lips.
Work. Work would save her. Work was neat and orderly, perfect columns and rows. It would take her mind off her emotions.
Meryl stumbled to the desk and yanked out the chair. She sat down quickly and pulled the stack of the newest insurance claims towards her, grabbing for a pencil out of the cup next to the desk lamp. Meryl sniffled heavily and wiped at her face again, posing the pencil above the form. With a shaky sigh, she brought the lead point to the paper.
The tip of the pencil snapped off.
With a vicious scream, Meryl threw the pencil down and cleared the desk with one sweep of her arm. Everything went tumbling to the floor, the lamp clattering, the pencils and pens flying, everything crashing down in a cloud of white insurance forms.
Meryl slid out of the chair and crumpled to the floor. A heavy silence fell over the room. Everything was bathed in an eerie light from the lamp that now lay sideways on the floor. Meryl shook as tears rolled down her cheeks.
The insurance claims lay scattered across the floor, and the contents of desk were strewn in every direction. She watched blankly as a pencil slowly rolled underneath the bed.
There had been several small boxes on the desk. Meryl had a box for everything; bills to be paid, bills paid, insurance claims investigated, claims completed, mail in, mail out, grocery lists, to do lists. Everything filed and checked and perfectly organized. Now they were overturned all around her, their contents heaped in a hapless pile. Total chaos.
As Meryl sat there crying, in the middle of the mess she had created, a bitter thought crossed her mind. In the middle of the paper clips and the staples, the pencils and pens, the bills and forms, she realized what she had done wrong.
She had forgotten to make a box for herself.