Laura stopped over after dinner with her mom and grandmother and was pressed into duty taking apart a computer desk and assembling a bookshelf. She and I were sitting around while Steven was complaining about all the wedding shit we've amassed and how I need to go through it. He was holding it and asking where I wanted it.
I did the logical thing. I told him to put it somewhere I'd trip over it. That would make me more likely to do something with it.
Laura died and then, after seeing her, I also died. Steven just kind of stared at us. But, low and behold, he did leave the wedding crap somewhere where I will trip over it, which means that sometime by Wednesday, after tripping over it three or four times, I will go through it.
We all win.