After a ten-month hiatus, tonight I stepped into the blue room and unpacked a box. This box:
superboobs shown here for scale
Since the label on the outside read "linen closet," I figured it was a safe bet that there would be towels and sheets and things inside:
I wasn't expecting stuffed animals or other boxes
After almost two years of this project, it's discouraging to find boxes inside of boxes, but I've learned to live with the discouragement. It's short work to throw all the linens into a laundry basket, put the stuffed animals into a box in the closet, and stack the boxes for another day.
Ten minutes it took to empty the tub, and ten minutes it took to obsess about sentimentality, and space, and purpose, and usefulness. Why hang on to Burt and Ernie? Couldn't I use the closet space for something more immediate? If I could learn to let things go, wouldn't I have a better shot at efficiency, creativity, productivity?
And I wonder why I avoid this room for months at a time.
1 comment:
Does anyone else think it's weird that I found a pair of underwear in this box? I discovered them when I took the load out of the dryer.
And speaking of sentimentality, there was a Padres souvenir towel in the tub. For the record, I think it's dumb to get sentimental over a towel. Especially a souvenir towel for a baseball team that never mattered to me.
I guess I am dumb.
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