No Place for My Stuff

One of my favorite comedians, the late, great George Carlin, had a hilarious routine about stuff; how we accumulate it, why we can't get rid of it, and the need to store it all somewhere. Like most of his musings, it was so on the money, hitting a nerve of embarrassing recognition. I'm not sure when stuff started taking over my life, I just know it has. But unlike the hapless hoarders that Carlin ridiculed, I'm determined to do something about it.

I honestly never thought of myself as much of a "conspicuous consumer". I've always seen myself as an inveterate bargain hunter; someone who values a good deal above almost anything else in life. But that's not really the issue. It doesn't matter how much you spent for the stuff that's taken up permanent residence in your closets, the only thing that matters is that you own things you haven't used since Madonna was married to Sean Penn.

My "ah-ha" moment happened on Sunday. I was looking for my old laptop, the sluggish dinosaur I had replaced with the shiny, new number on which I'm composing this blog. I needed my ancient friend to retrieve my old tax records and despite a thorough search of every room, it was nowhere to be found. As I deepened the search, I started to open every drawer and closet door. That's when I knew I was in serious trouble. You know those TV characters that open a closet and everything in it comes tumbling down on top of them? Not quite but close.

So, before basketballs and tennis racquets start raining down on my head, I'm stepping into action. I wish I could be as ambitious as the go-getter I saw on Facebook touting the virtues of digital garage sales. I read a couple of paragraphs before coming to the conclusion that that option was not for me - too much work for too little reward.

I've also ditched the whole e-bay idea. I've gone that route a few times but, again, not a fan of all that effort. Taking pictures, writing descriptions, tracking bids, packing boxes, and trekking to the post office can only be worthwhile for items whose sale might result in a nice meal at Olive Garden. 

So, that leaves me with only two options - giving stuff away or throwing stuff away. Since I can't deal with the guilt of tossing perfectly usable items into the trash, I think I'll have to fall back on my old standby, saying "yes" to every charitable organization that calls looking for "clothing or small household items" for donation and entering all those tax deductions (yes, I finally found that elusive computer underneath a table in the basement.)

I may have to pay for my own Fettuccine Alfredo but it's the only way I can ever be certain I'll see the walls of my closets again.