If the pages are glossy, it's meant to be read in the bathtub

In addition to my mounting stacks of Working Mother Magazine (wtf?) - I counted last night six months of unread Redbook AND Marie Claire, four months of Money magazine,and a partridge in a pear tree.

I've been *hrumphing* over my subscriptions, the carbon footprint from which would wipe out New Hampshire and sea lions, respectivly.

EveryDay Food (omg I love you little book)

US Weekly (WAY over it. Kate had 8 and Heidi Montag have completely ruined my love of all things celeb)

Redbook (over it)

Marie Claire (it was free, and sometimes interests me)

Money (boring but has good financial advice)

Working Mother Magazine (again, wtf?)

In addition to the half dozen alumni magazines my husband and I have sent in our names.
[Note: 350K+ in debt entitles you to LOTS of magazines and solicitation calls. I feel sorry for the people who are forced to call our house, the conversations never go well for them. I basically talk them out of formalized education and tell them to join the circus where the money is undoubtedly better AND you get to maintaining your flexibility. I fork out a mortgage-sized school loan payment every month and can barely touch my toes. Case studies are important my friends.]

The thought of throwing away unread magazines sends chills up my spine, so I'm forced to either magically develop speed reading skills (pleasepleaspleasplease) - OR, find a better way to organize them.

I've decided I'm going to tame that tower of glossies by invoking my powers of creativity... courtesy of one of the design blogs I heart!


And if my mailbox weren't full enough, I covet Dwell, but have the good sense not to subscribe, at least until my Redbook runs out...