Generation Exhausted: Swept Away

September 29, 2003

Swept Away

Apparently, I did not have enough to worry about.

I'd already begun to fear that my well-meaning friends might sing me up for public embarassment on What Not To Wear. And I shunned the idea of writing to Trading Spaces, because, well, sometimes they paint things orange. (orange being a colour that should be reserved for pumpkins and...well, oranges) That and I was afraid they might put me on sewing detail. And While You Were Out didn't appeal to me because I hate to go out.

But now there's a new demon to lurk in the back of my head. (which is where I tend to store my fear of things that are entirely improbable, but still, somehow, possible)

It's called Clean Sweep. And the gist of it, I gather, is that they come with a crew and make you get rid of your stuff.

You know...your stuff. The stuff that clutters the basement, and clogs the closets, and litters the shelves. Like the old manual typewriter (circa 1950) that I picked up at a rummage sale for ten bucks, figuring it might make a good conversation piece if I could ever figure out where to display it. And the picture frames I bought on sale that will someday - really - have pictures in them.

I don't want anyone messing with my stuff. Because, well, it's MY stuff. And I keep it for reasons that may only make sense to me, but that's the point - they make sense to me. I have a perfectly logical justification for every dust collector I've collected.

I'm not crying out for help - I'm a packrat, but it doesn't ruin my life. And I haven't gotten to the point where I have to rent offsite storage for my things. So those of you who have seen my basement and my closet, and yes, even my attic, can just get the thought right out of your head - there'll be no sweeping clean here.

Meddle with someone else's mess. My stuff is staying.

Posted on September 29, 2003 at 09:46 PM | Permalink