2004-02-02
Where in the world is the Diabetes Used Clothing bin?
Well, decluttering is going on no force this weekend. In fact, I don't think there's been any force, since the last time I forced myself to hit submit on that previous entry.
Jeremy commented recently that if I picked my clothes up off my floor my room would be more walkable. [Side Note: I don't really understand why he has trouble walking on the clothes like I exemplify every time he's over. He's 6 feet tall it's not like his legs are too short to step through the hills and valleys of clothes]. I told him I fully intended to donate them to charity but had no room to put them anywhere since I gave a dresser to my cousin so they seemed great on the floor (that way I won't forget about them). I also told him I was in the process of buying garbage bags to put them in so I could carry them downstairs to the basement where the used clothing bin is.
A week and half ago I bought some garbage bags (so I could put something on my decluttering chart and feel accomplished). Today I planned on putting them in the garbage bags and bringing them downstairs (well, in all reality I'd put them in the bags and wait a week or two and THEN put them downstairs so I could spread out that feeling of accomplishmentedness a bit longer). Only I discovered that they took away the used clothes bin!!!!!!!!!!!!! This TOTALLY ruins my decluttering plans. I cannot bear to just throw my clothes out in the trash when they are perfectly wearable (especially when I know the people who think wearing Kurt Cobain-style cardigans are still cool and counting on people like me to donate). It would take me an entire day of bus travel if I was to take them all to the Salvation Army. So I guess they will remain as carpeting on my floor til I think of a better idea. I guess I could still put them in the garbage bags but I'll have to wait til my mourning period of the set back in my decluttering new years resolution plan passes due to the loss of the used clothes bin (which was obviously essential to my entire decluttering plan). This could take weeks or even months (at which point I'll probably forget about my resolution all together like I do every year).
Do you ever have those memories that are clearly etched inside your head and when you start to think about them years later you realize they make no fucking sense? Like, I remember when I was four my mom learned I was allergic to feathers. So me and her gathered all the feather pillows in the house, cut them open and shook all the feathers out of the pillows and on to my floor. Do you think my mom was trying to kill me? Why would she a) enlist my help in gathering feather pillows when I'm allergic to feathers b) cut them open in my presence and c) sprinkle the feathers over *my* room?
After months of old routine-ness, I learned something new about Jeremy today. This morning I woke up to the sound of him snoring. Only his snores were so loud it sounded like he wasn't getting any air to his lungs. Since he rarely snores, and when he does its more of a quiet rumbling hum I got concerned and woke him up. He seemed super pissed that I was ruining his dreams (of Janet Jackson's nipples), so I just explained to him he was snoring loudly. He said, "That's Impossible. I was thinking."
"Oh. What were you thinking about?"
*snooooooooore*
Apparently, he's a thinking snorer. I never knew such a think existed.
popnoir at 8:58 p.m.