Long ago in a land far away, we all lived in caves or under trees or something and we collected rocks and twigs mostly so we would have something to throw at people who came to steal our tasty rat-meat skewers and on Saturdays, if it wasn’t raining, we played a game called “run from the lion; ha ha, I’m sure that growl is just for show”. I think. Something like that. I only took the one anthropology class in college and it was kind of a long time ago.
Things have changed.
When I moved to this apartment, I took absolutely nothing. It was refreshing and light and freeing and I don’t miss any of the clutter. And yet somehow I’ve already managed to accumulate more. I’ve been attempting to clean my office today — a room that has somehow become devoted to black hole of disorganization and chaos, with its boxes and storage bins and papers and electronics and clothes and who knows what else. Don’t let the fact that I am clearly writing on my computer and not organizing make you think I am not devoted to this cause. Everyone needs short breaks now and then. And naps. We all need naps.
But mostly, what I need today is to find a place for everything and to figure out why exactly it is that I have been making due with only three quarters of my living space to give room to the random and crazy things that I’ve apparently been carefully storing. I’m pretty sure I don’t need an empty Jimmy Jane box. Sure, Jimmy Jane has great packaging, but do I really need to keep an empty vibrator box forever? I did find an apparent bonus tube of massage lotion in the box, but I think the box itself can go.
And I may not need all those DS games, case, and accessories when I don’t actually own a DS anymore. And yet. There it all is, stacked nicely in my bookcase. I don’t have a tape player either, but that doesn’t mean I should get rid of my cassettes, right? Right? I probably even have a few records somewhere, now that I think of it.
All this abandoned technology makes me like my books just a little more. All you need to use those are your eyes. And all those hard drives, in various states of operation, four laptops (only one of which is entirely working) and one desktop computer makes me want to find some actual paper and write with a real pen. Of course, books and paper are the other two things that pile up, but those I don’t mind so much. I’d happily line every wall with bookcases full of books and journals. The walls aren’t too far off from that now, come to think of it.
Clutter like that makes me happy. Maybe I should clear out those cassettes after all and make a little more room.