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So, cleaning up the 3rd floor walkup of a hoarder has really made me think HARD about the kind of stuff that's cluttering up my house. Not that it's ever going to completely unclutter - it'll take a U-Haul to take all my books to the Book Thing when I die - but I don't need extraneous stuff lying around.
THEN I drove myself to the hospital on Monday with a suspected heart attack. It wasn't - I figured that out around hour 3, because if it was, they'd be a lot more attentive to me. As it was, it was almost midnight (I'd arrived at 4) before a physician's assistant could be arsed to flip my cot for someone who needed it. I came perilously close to checking out AMA. (Protip: If you are a nurse for someone who has turned into a bitch beast that you know has been there for 6 hours, do not be shocked when she says she's hungry. Also do not promise food you cannot provide. Saying "I'll get a sandwich" and showing up with 8 saltines was a pretty big Fuck You.)
The culprit appears to be esophageal spasm, and if I type that often enough I'll finally figure out how to spell it. Calling home to tell my folks, Mother casually said I probably inherited it from her, as she had inherited it from her dad.
Thanks for the warning. (Something I said with equal sarcasm to my father when I suddenly started getting gusher nosebleeds and he was all "Oh, yeah, that happened to me at your age.")
Anyway... nothing like clearing out a hoarder's place AND having a health scare to get Really Fucking Serious about the declutter. New rule: at least once a week on trash night and preferably both trash nights, 7 things go out of this house. No "maybe" it can be useful to someone, no "perhaps" I can sell it for a pittance - GONE GONE GONE GONE GONE.
M and my Mother want me to freecycle. Today I put out an ancient (pre-CD-player) record/tape player and its speakers during daylight right on the curb under a stop sign. And y'know? It freecycled its own damn self.
If you've read for a while, you know that I've been shucking stuff for a very long time. But this is different. This has teeth in it.
That said... I am also considering one or more "get it gone" parties. I'll just announce open house hours, set out a tip jar for anyone feeling generous, and tell people to come make all my extra yarn/fanzines/etc. Go Away.
THEN I drove myself to the hospital on Monday with a suspected heart attack. It wasn't - I figured that out around hour 3, because if it was, they'd be a lot more attentive to me. As it was, it was almost midnight (I'd arrived at 4) before a physician's assistant could be arsed to flip my cot for someone who needed it. I came perilously close to checking out AMA. (Protip: If you are a nurse for someone who has turned into a bitch beast that you know has been there for 6 hours, do not be shocked when she says she's hungry. Also do not promise food you cannot provide. Saying "I'll get a sandwich" and showing up with 8 saltines was a pretty big Fuck You.)
The culprit appears to be esophageal spasm, and if I type that often enough I'll finally figure out how to spell it. Calling home to tell my folks, Mother casually said I probably inherited it from her, as she had inherited it from her dad.
Thanks for the warning. (Something I said with equal sarcasm to my father when I suddenly started getting gusher nosebleeds and he was all "Oh, yeah, that happened to me at your age.")
Anyway... nothing like clearing out a hoarder's place AND having a health scare to get Really Fucking Serious about the declutter. New rule: at least once a week on trash night and preferably both trash nights, 7 things go out of this house. No "maybe" it can be useful to someone, no "perhaps" I can sell it for a pittance - GONE GONE GONE GONE GONE.
M and my Mother want me to freecycle. Today I put out an ancient (pre-CD-player) record/tape player and its speakers during daylight right on the curb under a stop sign. And y'know? It freecycled its own damn self.
If you've read for a while, you know that I've been shucking stuff for a very long time. But this is different. This has teeth in it.
That said... I am also considering one or more "get it gone" parties. I'll just announce open house hours, set out a tip jar for anyone feeling generous, and tell people to come make all my extra yarn/fanzines/etc. Go Away.
