Uuuurrrgh. Cleaning my digital archives. Not as arduous as moving those fat brittle archive cabinets -which were unbalanced so prone to tip over- slathered in a dull-grey colour, with undoubtedly a hefty amount of lead- trying to open the one that has that effing last letter – which Susan misfiled years ago- behind a rusted lock boring. But still I feel like complaining.
