In the Beginning, It Was Only Magazines

In the beginning, it was only magazines: bridal, wedding, registry. The Knot, Southern California Edition; Brides, the Dress Issue; and CB2. They invaded your home. They occupied the living room coffee table, the dining room table, the desk, the nightstand, the magazine rack, the standing space beside the toilet. They set up residence, and they spawned. And they weren't going anywhere.

 Spread of infection: Week 14

But the wedding magazines have a tendency to propagate outside of their species, and soon it wasn't literature alone that was occupying your workspace, your eatspace, your sleepspace. There were lists, checklists, reminders, spreadsheets, stationery, stuff. The proposals begot estimates begot contracts. The stuff begot more stuff.

Spread of infection: Week 30

And now, christ, you don't have any stuff of your own. It's all been compromised or tossed out in error -- that, or it's somehow blended with the other stuff in some kind of wedding osmosis. You're apparently running a knock-off Crate & Barrel operation out of your home, what with all the bridal shower gifts stacked left and right. The lists and checklists have moved into the bedroom -- better yet, into the bed -- and you sleep atop the things you haven't yet completed. Your dreams are the stuff of unfinished business. 

Spread of infection: Present day

Getting into your home -- don't get me started. It's a natural disaster. What's this new thing; what's that new thing. Oh, right, I put that there, didn't I? I don't even know myself anymore. There are eight kinds of mixers in my fridge for sampling cocktails and my Mac desktop is filthy with icons. I forgot to call what's his name again. Honey, where do you want this panini press instruction booklet to go? Why do you sometimes speak in the third person? Who are you talking to?

And maybe it's because you're watching Constant Gardener and some other conspiratorial melodramas but the world looks wildly different and Walgreens doesn't have anything to fix it and, crap, I think I'm sitting on something. Probably another response card.

It's a response card.