Starting our own (empty) home means things keep occurring to me that I’ve never had to think about before. Silverware, for instance, has always just been there, in the drawer, and so has the plastic organizer sorting it into its neat little categories.
My mom has always had an address book we referenced whenever we needed to send out thank-you notes or invitations, so I always wanted to have my own when I moved out. I forgot that this involved writing out all those addresses.
I’ve gotten through the Cs.
The Grammar Changeling 