If you want to really piss me off, take away my internet connection. And then force me to watch the full 2 hours and 20 minutes of “Flyboys” in an 80 degree apartment, while depriving myself of wine and beginning the monstrous task of packing up my life. Oh, and while you’re at it, could you please give me cramps?
Thus was the scene last night. It is truly unbelievable how much stuff one can accumulate, even in a tiny one-room studio. I found boxes that held treasures long-since forgotten, as well as items that I simply cannot fathom getting rid of, no matter how infrequently I use them. Like king-size pillows that I have no shams for, but, “Probably one day I will have king-size shams again, and then do I really want to go spend $40 on new pillows?” Or clothing 2 sizes too big, but, “Maybe after I’ve given birth and I need something cute to wear, this will be perfect – and I’ll kick myself if I get rid of it right now, because I know how much I paid for it, and I WILL want it SOMEDAY.”
Someone please talk me down off my pre – post-maternity ledge.
I have unearthed books that have gone overlooked for 2 years, real gems like “You CAN Write Song Lyrics!” and “What YOU Can Do About Asthma!” and other superfluously titled volumes. I also have a collection of about 25 “previously viewed” romantic comedies on VHS, purchased on discount at Blockbuster in 1999 – now those should bring in some big money.
I started creating lists last night, lists of what to do with my stuff. Now for a list of my lists:
* To sell
* To return to the owner
* To deliver to Miranda
* To give to anyone else
* To mail to Kansas
* To store
* To take to Goodwill
* To take with me
* To throw away
As tough as it is, I think that everyone could use a good purge every now and then. After my initial sweep through my apartment last night, I already feel 10 lbs lighter. And that is always a good thing. :)