I can't find my high school ring. I never got a college ring because I joined the Reserves during Vietnam and missed a semester. More troubling is I also can't find my late dad's diamond ring. Maybe I gave it to a relative. I keep finding containers and boxes holding nothing of value as I continue my cleanup. Right now I must explore a large plastic container holding lots of photos from newspapers and magazines which I cut out.
I haven't looked at them for years and don't recall why I collected them. Logic says I should just toss the whole mess out, but what if there's a one of a kind shot that is nothing less than dazzling? There has to be something of value there.
I have other containers holding similar items. Should I spend hours going through them when I could be writing novels and plays?
I hate the fact that I've accumulated all this stuff. What void am I trying to fill? If I suddenly croak, people will assume I'm a hoarder. I may be missing things I've forgotten about. Today I packed up all my Tupperware and dropped it off at Goodwill for a tax deduction. This was the sixth load of stuff I donated. I wish I could donate the part of my brain I'm not using. I bet I could focus better without millions of unemployable neurons blocking important thoughts.
No comments:
Post a Comment