Clutter

Carole Free

"Oh, my God, I can't stand this. Look at this mess!! If I ever bring home another thing I want you to shoot me. Where does all this stuff come from? I'd swear that some of this junk is fornicating and giving birth in the corners. Man! I'd love to have all the money back. Maybe I'll have a garage sale...Make a few bucks. Oh, Lord, remember the last one? I schlepped the stuff about a hundred times, I think. Loaded it in boxes and baags to get it out of the house then unloaded it to sort and price it then carried it all to the front yard and ran around putting up signs. Sat in the hot sun all day dickering with idiots about 25 cent jeans and then when it was all over I had to box it all back up again and carry it back to the garage, where it sat. For my trouble, I got 50 bucks and a bad sunburn. Then, I had to load it in the car and drive it to the salvation army (they don't pick up anymore). I had to unload it there again, 'cause the guy was busy and had an attitude. I bought some stuff while I was there, though, got a real deal. I can remember saying to you then that if I ever talked about giving a garage sale again I wanted you to tie me up until the feeling passed. So, what are we going to do with this stuff? Lets just dump it all, or better yet, just set fire to this garage and get rid of it all at once. Bring that big trash can over here and lets just start dumping. Wait a second, don't throw that out, it's still good and I might be able to use it...No, wait...why don't you just go into the house and let me do this by myself, I have to look everything over and sort out the good stuff...no sense tossing anything we might need soon...Thanks, Honey...."