Today I made a startling discovery. As I was wading through the piles of junk in our apartment I suddenly realized what was wrong. We didn't have a junk drawer. When I was growing up there was always a drawer in the kitchen that contained everything that didn't belong anywhere else. Matches, a piece of string, a button with the name of a soda drink that used to be new but got canceled because nobody liked it, communist lapel pin since my parents were young with long hair, glue, broken glasses from some grandparent. Useful stuff and also weird useless objects my mother couldn't bring herself to throw away. I loved this drawer and rummaged through it frequently.
Now I have one of my own. I am very happy with it. It took me six minutes to fill it with all the homeless things that have been lying around the apartment for months and have been slowly driving me towards insanity. I think I've solved all my problems for ever and evah evah.
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