There is no compromising with your stuff
Immutable Law of Stuff Riddance
The social activity director has been asked to leave the room— Close the door behind you— All those deadlines, all the things you said you’d get around to but you never did, all those— things?
Yeah peeps it is stuff time again. Toxic recycling center here I come. Second hand stores you’re next. Craigslist for items that still have value— picture’s already posted. The rest of the burden will be my burden to bear. Yeah, I got digital media devices. Yes, a terabyte sized solid state hard drive the size of Tinkerbell has done a fair amount of downsizing and cardboard box eliminating. But, there remains—-more stuff.
Then, there is the immutable law of not needing something until the day after you have discarded the very thing you have lugged up and down stairs, across stateliness, at great expense until you fall into that feverish state where relinquishment becomes sacrament. The newborn proud disposer of previously acquired indispensable stuff you’ve never used finally goes only to turn around a come back to haunt you. First, you buy it, then you never use it, then you try to lose it, only to have the thing come back and bite you in the regretful backside of what was once somebodies idea of a good time. This is stuff’s swan song doing dirge and death march, also known as the local-not nearly nearby as you’d like it to be county garbage dump.
I do not think of myself as a materialist. I have basements, garages, storage areas and overstuffed lockers that argue otherwise. Closets, drawers and shelves put a man like me at risk. I’m more able to resist that next shot of Wild Turkey than I am able to discipline myself at the mailbox and just toss away another catalogue of mail order stuff that can be here to clog my life by the day after tomorrow.
The whole idea of not getting a hernia is like hoping I won’t get wet while swimming. A pair of gloves that’s what I need, that and some kind of plan. I’ll need to go through things one more time to be sure. I wish the whole idea of having a spring cleaning wasn’t even a time honored tradition, because as things go I could first off enjoy getting rid of that little nattering nuisance of a phrase. Of course words are cheap and stuff is heavy, not item by item but when you figure how much all this stuff weighs on my soul you get the idea right?
I’m starting tomorrow. Things have to change. There is no avoiding the fact I have to get rid of more stuff and worse still is people seeing you getting rid of stuff ask if you’d be willing to take some of their stuff off their hands—? Sure, put right there, I’ll see you when you get back from Tuscany, have a great time. You know where I’ll be.
Buy a book, book a show… let’s do stuff together….
Hot as Hell, Dark as Death
