My Life Is Crap

It’s so hard… to say goodbye…
to all the stupid crap you’ve acquired over the years.

The books you’re never going to read again. The CDs you never even listened to once (not even sure I have a CD player!) The suits you’re never gonna wear, the wetsuit that’ll never be wet again. The “spare” monitor, the wireless keyboard, the old desktop running windows 98. Tape based video cameras, film based still cameras, three generations of iPods, “organizers” from the 90’s, Cakewalk for Win95, Teach Yourself Active Server Pages, Project 2000. Table saw, router table and chop saw. Old driver’s licenses, marathon medals, concert/radio/band T’s.

I’ve promised myself I wouldn’t leave all this shit to be tossed by my survivors but it’s a sickness. Throwing things away forces me to peer into the abyss of pointlessness that is living. Maybe drinking will help.

I have two copies of my college diploma. They’re both the same size: huge. I don’t have a job (thanks Cornell!) so one is hanging in my bedroom.

At least two dozen “For Dummies” books. Apropos. Seven or eight rather large motorcycle camping guides. I went motorcycle camping twice. In 2009. They are next to my shelf of skiing self-improvement titles. I can’t afford to ski anymore – last time I went was 2012 just before I got fired. Good thing I have two pairs of skis & boots and a slick set of ski luggage to fly it all around in.

Can’t get rid of the third seat for the Suburban. No one’s used it since the “kids” were playing soccer – but you never know when you might need to seat nine. It’s been sitting in the garage for fifteen years. In great shape compared to the seats we actually sit in.

Client files and business cards going back three jobs. I know as soon as I toss them they’ll ring me up with a project that relies on their contents. Tax returns going back to last century. With the backing receipts.

And boxes. Boxes for amps, keyboards, laptops, vacuums. Slow cookers, pressure cookers, deep-fry turkey cookers. Boxes for turntables and VCRS. Yes, I actually have a turntable and a VCR. But I don’t have the boxes for those.

I saved boxes because I used to move a lot. In the seventies.

I’ve been where I’m at for 18 years. And I’m probably going to die here. Partly because of the way property taxes work in CA, but mostly because I can’t afford to move all this crap to a new location.

I have thrown some stuff out. Old Playboys. Single socks. Books by Eric Lustbader. Hotel soap. Of course, I might need that hotel soap, in case there’s some sort of global soap shortage. I’ll be kicking myself then.

But little of substance seems to make it out the door. Unless something is either broken or completely obsolete I sincerely believe that I might need it again before I expire. Plus, all this crap cost money, and getting rid of it is an admission that I probably shouldn’t have bought it in the first place. The longer I hang on to it, the more difficult it gets to get rid of, because then I have to admit keeping it for so long was just as stupid as buying it. It’s a vicious cycle.

Worse yet, I buy things to put the things in, things to stack things on, sheds to shed things into, organizers to organize. Some of those are still in the plastic.

Maybe I should get a book on how to get rid of things. Or a DVD. Not sure I have a DVD player anymore. But I definitely have a couple of boxes for them.

This entry was posted in Humor, Musings, Philosophy. Bookmark the permalink.