Staples is my Mecca

Thought I should even out the prior post with something less cranky.

I have to admit a somewhat embarrassing fetish of mine. I am completely and utterly swept away whenever I walk into an office supply store. Around here, that means Staples. Sure, there's other local small stores around, but they don't hold a candle to the cathedral of the business world. The pure anal perfection of shelf after shelf of virtually everything you could ever want.

Walk down one aisle, and reams upon reams of not just paper, but lined paper, laser printer paper, paper with holes punched, legal pads, off-sizes, business sizes, letter sizes. And on the opposite side, the multitude of envelopes to fit all the paper just across from them. Turn the corner, and thousands of styles of pens and pencils, all neatly packaged, all waiting their turn to sully the purity of the paper that is so close, yet so far away.

And binders. Omigod! The binders! Three-ring, D-ring, 1/4", 1/2", 3/4",...all the way up to 2" and beyond. Black, blue, green, white. With pockets. Without pockets. With colored index tabs. Tabs for the alphabet. Tabs for the calendar. Oh, the calendars! Twelve-month, 16-month, wall calendars, desk calendars, pocket calendars--the list goes on!

I don't know if this is a matter of nature or nurture. I remember distinctly sitting in Mrs. Stoneberg's 2nd grade class with my stash of minty fresh pencils, crayons, pink erasers, and notebooks (with the big penmanship lines). I remember the joy in finding/stealing somebody else's stash so that mine stayed immaculate and perfect. I remember eating the paste (oh, shut up--you did too!). To this day, I can't walk into Staples (or Office Depot, or any other large office supply store) without stopping to soak in the smells, or to marvel at the perfection of the shelves, or to shudder a little bit with that elation of near-orgasmic peace.

Lord, I need help...