Life on My Own Terms

When I open my boss’s mail at work, I place all of it in a manila folder before taking it to him. That folder—and all the other ones I use when I take him documents—never ends up back in my office. Where do they go? A black hole? The round filing drawer? Someone else’s office? I’m not sure and after four weeks of being here, I’m starting to get concerned. I’m sure I’m responsible for the death of an old-growth redwood somewhere.