Mrs. Hudson would be annoyed when she saw the masses of case records strewn about the apartment, but I continued with my task anyway. I couldn't find the file I needed and I was growing more and more frustrated by the second. The doctor's system of organization was beyond irritating. EMPT? BLAC? What in blazes could these cryptic abbreviations mean? I had tried every combination of words I could think of (Even Moriarty Picks Tulips? Because Lestrade Ate Carrots?) but nothing seemed to fit. I never dreamed that allowing Watson to organize my papers would end in so much aggravation!