Something

For the remainder of the summer, I’ve resolved to do at least one thing every day in the way of simplifying, cleaning, or just generally de-cluttering things around the house.  So, for instance, yesterday, I took a load of stuff to Goodwill; the day before, I re-organized my downstairs bookshelf; and the day prior to that, I pulled a few weeds.

I was thinking dump run today, but the car is unavailable, and I’m too lazy to bike it, so I might just make due with taking some old and/or broken computers to the recycling place.

Of course, it’s all “tip-of-the-iceberg” stuff; if I really wanted to make a dent, I’ll drive a bulldozer into my basement and begin digging.  After three days, I might be able to claim success, but only if I agreed to overlook my bike shop.

The source of most of the clutter in my house and life is a kind of vague optimism about the future.  I hold on to things with the idea that I might need them someday.  A set of road bike wheels that may come in handy should I want to inexpensively build up a new bike; some clothes that could be useful if I’m ever going to run in the Iditarod; a shelf of books that I hold onto in the slim hope that I might return to graduate school and finish my Ph.D. 

What’s the point?

I want to end my life, as did the traditional sages of ancient India, with just a few simple possessions: my glasses, a pair of shoes, and a couple hundred million dollars in the bank.  In order to get there, I’d better start winnowing my collection of footwear as soon as possible.

I have three pairs of Chuck Taylors: my good ones, that I can wear to school; the crummy ones, for mowing the lawn, and the moldy ones, for…what?

Hey, found my one thing: into the trash they go!