Hoards II
Our adventure continues. Hoards Part II. You're welcome to read Part I to understand why there is any need for a Part II, or a future Part III. I imagine we might even see a Part XVIII if we include the basement in this madness.
Initially, the plan was to remove all the surplus fake wood printer stands, typewriter stands, broken printers, and other surplus garbage cluttering up the office. We'd avoid my mother getting upset over "memories" being moved. Then I realize that she would walk into a de-cluttered office and grow angry because she didn't see anything that was vanishing.
My mother sees Better Half struggling with an ancient printer. "Where are you going with that?"
"It's broken," he grunts.
"Are you sure," she challenges. Thus we enter the eternal loop with her thinking we tossed something useful.
We haven't. And, hey, the day has just begun.
"I want to be able to write my plays again," she says.
"I'll get you a laptop," I roll my eyes.
It became a ten minute argument after that. She thought we would move the office downstairs, thereby giving her yet another zone (she has all of them except our bedroom).
No. Just...no. All our stuff is in storage. I have GOT to get my couch out of there. It's stored on its side, resting on its arm. I have GOT to get my pictures out of there. My own office stuff. Our shared memories. The few sticks of furniture we have left. The living room must go back to being a living room. The foyer can become a family room, with her TV and chair readily available.
I know she'll fight me tooth and nail over all her "artwork" - including cheap things she found at Goodwill mixed with old oil paintings coated in nicotine.
Don't even get me started on all the Publisher's Clearing House crap. These cheap-ass broke-dick items clutter up the kitchen, dining room, hall, bathroom, and living room.
"God will let me win Publisher's Clearing House!" she perpetually insists.
The odds of being struck by lightening are around 1 in 500,000. The odds for being struck twice? 1 in 9 million.
The odds of winning Publisher's Clearing House? 1 in 2.4 billion to win the SuperPrize.
I hate PCH. I wish I could sue them for taking advantage of the elderly.
But back to the hoard.
I really can understand where my mother is coming from. We had a lot of memories, and objects that represented those memories. I went through a grieving process after our move. I'm still bothered by it, and try not to think about it.
Do I also hoard? Probably. Stuff is stuff. I had a collection of coffee cups. Gone. I had teapots. I still have those. Would I trade the teapots for the coffee cups? Yes, but I'd also trade the cups for the pots. If I lost all, I'd likely withdraw a while and lament that I've already lost so much already.
Also, I hoard things we might need. I kid you not. When the pandemic broke out, I hoarded ready-to-eat food. This stems from my punk years when money didn't exist and food was difficult to cook or even to procure. Alright, we've blazed through some of it, like the hearty dinners that Better Half loves.
And I hoarded toilet paper. I didn't buy a large amount at one time. I just buy a package of it when I go to the store for food.
This, again, is due to my punk years. We would steal the massive toilet paper rolls from McDonald's. This scratchy stuff tore our buttholes off, but at least we could wipe with something other than newspaper. Abundant TP was the mark of success in my crowd. You could afford to buy more than one roll.
You also took issue with waste! I mean, c'mon!
"A tractor-trailer hauling toilet paper crashed and caught fire near Dallas early Wednesday"
But...moving right along.
I've taken a break. I feel somewhat defeated. What if I can't claim this space? What if I can't claim the living room for the betterment of all of us?
At least I have a ton of TP to dry my eyes with.