I hate receiving mail now. It is the bane of my existence and often I let it pile up high until it's falling all over the place. Now if I'm expecting money, I'm all over the mailbox but otherwise, I hold my breath each time myself or my husband opens the mailbox waiting for the imminent doom or depression brought on by more bills and more offers for a credit card I don't need. So extreme is my angst over mail that my husband is the one to routinely get the mail for us. Part of it is because I've been known to hide bills from myself only to have to make a mad scramble around the house for the payment coupon to pay our property tax. My husband is good about putting our "community bills" in one place and then dividing our individual mail amongst us.
Nevertheless, I sometimes go months without opening statements, shredding credit card offers or filing my paycheck stubs. But in order to get my financial house in order, I took a deep breath this morning and faced the pile of paper (which includes mail, magazines and work-related papers) on my nightstand that had taken on a life of its own. It took me nearly two hours to come up with two piles: Shred and Save.