Letting Go

I'm a pack rat.  I mean, I'm no Collyer brother, but well, let's just say I'm more like them than is probably healthy (I'm still way better off than anyone on those hoarder shows).

That said, I've been reading a ton of minimalist blogs recently and have started looking for ways to get my house in order, literally.  The hard part is that I have too many attachments to what I own.  First, there is the obvious sentimental attachment - "I can't throw that away, it was a gift from..." or "it reminds me of a time when..." (concert t-shirts, programs, my rugby kit, tons and tons of keepsakes, etc.)

The second is the attachment that says, "but I may need/want that in the future".  Clothes that no longer fit?  I'll get back into them someday.  Receipts, tax returns?  I may need them.  Old textbooks?  Well, you never know.

So I'm trying to get over that.  I have a deal with my coach that I will tackle this huge-ass pile of crap in front of my dresser in the weeks to come.  Looking at it, I have no idea where to the stuff is going to go, though I do know (hope) quite a bit of it can be tossed.

In an effort to make some room, I decided to start with something easy.  Porn.

I can't remember the last time I even looked at a porn tape.  Has to have been 5 or 6 years at least.  Probably longer than that.  And I have a rather prodigious collection.  So I started throwing it out.  Oddly, I had those first little feelings of worry (maybe I should sell this, maybe I should keep it...), but once I started bagging it up, worry gone.  I couldn't care less about it.

Now let's see if I can keep up that feeling when I start in on my wardrobe.  Or, God help me, my books.

Chalk one up for my moral compass

I have some marvelously embarassing photos of a famous playwright.  Rather than show them to everyone I know, I took the moral high road and deleted them.

Karma owes me a pony.

Damn you, Easy Listening Station

So I'm in my office and the radio is playing.  Harry Chapin's "Cat's in the Cradle" comes on, and 15 seconds into it, I'm crying.  I had to turn the bloody thing off.

FML.

I assume these little emotional ninja attacks go away at some point.  But that will suck in a completely different way.

Glee

So what does it say about me that the character I'm most attracted to on the show is the homophobic bully?

Totally fucked up.