So, this week I get to move...oh boy. I think I'd much rather put my junk, and when I say junk, I say the twigs and berries, into a meat grinder. I hate to move. It reminds me how much shit I actually acquire through the years. I'm not a hoarder by any means. In fact I will throw out perfectly good stuff or give it to goodwill just to unclutter my life. I hate clutter. I like organization, I like clean. During the past year I've kinda let that go a bit. Depression or a small resemblance to it can make you do some things you normally wouldn't do. I don't suggest it.
Anyway, so I have clutter now. This weekend I began packing things away. I'm saying goodbye to many of my old shirts. Kristi used to call them my tight shirts. True, they were a little tight and for some reason I thought they looked good. How embarrassing for me to walk around wearing those. What the hell was she thinking letting me? I've moved beyond the tight shirts and stepped up one size to offset it. My world is right now. I can move and breathe with a little more comfort. Half my wardrobe has been retired to the goodwill pile.
Aside from clothes there is the matter of furniture. I have couches devastated from my dog. Seems he loved the leather couch more than me and I surrendered it to him years ago. No lie, his couch, his couch only. Bet it was the most expensive dog bed in Shelby County, maybe even Alabama. Glass tables...don't get me started. Sure, they look nice, even have an industrial look to them but the damn things attract dust and fingerprints quicker than Tiger Woods attracts hookers. You see that? Yeah I just dated this post with a Tiger Woods reference. Another mammoth of the dinosaur age would be my computer desk. Its a desk designed to fill the corner of the room. It's nice...but BIG. I have a laptop, it sits on my lap. The desk looks lonely and empty now. Maybe I should use it as a drawing table, maybe someplace to paint...Then there's the drafting table. Funny how I don't draft for a living but have the real deal when it comes to such things. Goodwill will be proud to help an aspiring drafter or architect one day. Too bad they're doomed to fail when they learn its all computer based these days. Bet they wish they had my computer desk...suckers. One item in particular need not go to goodwill or along for my move...my bed. It's just sad. So much abuse has withered the solid oak head and foot boards. The metal frame is tired and weak. It looks like it could implode at any minute, sending me to the floor like cars toward icy water if the San Fran bridge decided to collapse. Besides, if I donated it, they would have to bring in a priest to perform an exorcism to cast all the evil spirits its carried through it's life.
Then there's the little things in life that we acquire. Little things hiding in different areas of the house that you never really think of and they never really seem odd until you put them all together in a pile and see just how random they are. I'll give you an example: new unopened pack of playing cards, sewing kit, condoms, razor blades for a box cutter, tea cup candles, camo beer huggie, a sliver dollar, a zippo lighter, pain meds for a dog, compass, a masterlock, etc. It's random stuff but I'm pretty sure if the police were to get a search warrant and find it altogether in one place, I'm sure they'd put me on the sex offenders' list thinking I was involved in something kinky and weird. Oh, the clutter, it must now go!
I'm thinking of living life as a minimalist. It would be nice to rid my life of distraction and unnecessary junk. I look across the room and see not one, but two brand new mountain bikes. What a waste. One in fairness was for Kristi when she and I were dating so it's not like I just got bored with one and wanted another. She rode it twice, I rode mine maybe five times...that's just sad. I have various paintings on the wall that I no longer look at. Two sets of dishes, weird articles like a bean bag, stacks of books that I've read, DVDs that I've seen already, clothes that I never wear, shoes that I never wear. All of it consuming me, begging to take over my life, to bury me, cover me until I decompose and blow away. I hate it. It's got to go. I always wanted to live life like if I had to pack up and move on tomorrow it would be no problem. I envisioned myself as a drifter, moving city to city, rarely living there long enough for anyone to know my name. Funny how that changes and your belongings begin to weigh you down. At least I'm home and they're not keeping me from the ones I love. I will say however the things will have to go. If I'm ever to marry then I will let the wife collect the junk and I will make sure she has plenty of space. Space I'm sure she will run out of and make me reorganize ;)
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