Sunday, January 06, 2008

Chaos Theory: Hoard to Tears


Many of my favorite sweaters are buried. They groan under the weight of Mount Sweaterest, which is something like six feet wide and five feet high, and counting, and consists mostly of my spouse's 789 sweaters -- even after massive donations to charity over the years. (Hey! it's cold in these parts nine months of the year!) Mount Sweaterest occupies a significant portion of Syracuse's Tipperary Hill, as contained within our modest abode.


This weekend, I was tempted to exert a little energy and personal responsibility by going out and buying some plastic shelves or bins (certainly not a new bureau). You know, organize my life.

Then I found that my problem is me (per usual), not shelf space. Yup, as noted by the wellness (isn't that a fine word?) columnist of The New York Times,

"Excessive clutter and disorganization are often symptoms of a bigger health problem."


It goes on to say, "Attention deficit disorder, depression, chronic pain, and grief can prevent people from getting organized or lead to a buildup of clutter." (I inserted my own serial comma in that quotation. So sue me.) Bingo! I'll cop to three out of four of those qualifiers.

What to do?

I told wifey I was going to liberate drawer space from some of the bureaus her clothes occupy. That was met with, um, slight resistance.

Doesn't matter. My job is to de-clutter my own life, clean up my side of the street.

Didn't get too far on that this weekend.

But we did take down the Christmas tree. (I regally decree annually that we wait until Epiphany before de-foresting the living room.)

The falling pine needles refreshed the pine scent of the tree when it was freshly cut. An old memory instantly resurrected.

The space formerly occupied by the tree seems so vacant and secular and quotidian now.

Back to normal life. Whatever normal is.

Incidentally, I still find myself greeting people with "Happy New Year." How long is that permitted? I think I might stop soon; this might be the last week for that. Or maybe not. What else do we have to say until Valentine's Day (a depressing holiday for me ever since Barbara Wallace didn't give me a card in first grade) anyway? Yeah, I know. "If you see Kay. . . . off."

9 comments:

Glamourpuss said...

Why not put the jumpers in the space left by the Christmas tree...?

Puss

Ron Bramlett said...

Good luck with getting your drawer space back.. My wife's stuff has spread throughout all 4 bedrooms' closets like an unstoppable rebel force. I've been demoted to about 5 rubbermaid bins in the office..

Ralph said...

Do you really have to apologize for all those sweaters when you live in that I-90 snow belt? Would you de-clutter the sweaters if you lived in a colder and snowier place like, say, Oswego? Or Duluth?

Our tree is the finest fake, but even we waited until the 6th to take it down...

Patti said...

Happy New Year, PK!

ZZZZZZZ said...

haha mount sweaterest. That is simply magnificent. Ever think about climbing it? haha

Odat said...

Ut oh....I have a T-shirtest, a sweatshirtest, and a jeanerest...I'm sicker than I thought....
So does the theory go on to say if we clean up these mountains, we become well??????? ;-)
Peace

Pawlie Kokonuts said...

Puss,
Can't put them where the tree was because of Pisscat.

Ron,
Suddenly, I don't feel so alone.

Ralph,
We ARE near Oswego, but oh the difference 30 miles maketh.

Patti,
Thee 2.

Sheila,
It nearly toppled yesterday; too fragile to climb.

Odat,
If you clean up thse mountains, then you have to work on all the molehills that pretend to be mountains. Sorry.

PK

azgoddess said...

wow - i'm surprised by not only your post but the comments with the same laments...

when i adopted Buddhism, i adopted to live a simple life - all of my clothes exist in one closet and three dresser drawers

Christy said...

I throw sweaters up to the top of the closet. You know the shelf above the part where you hang your clothes...there lies my sweaters, looks like a bunch of deflated squids or something.

Words, and Then Some

Too many fled Spillways mouths Oceans swill May flies Swamped Too many words Enough   Said it all Spoke too much Tongue tied Talons claws sy...