Tuesday, September 6, 2011


     Labor Day is a great time for a catharsis.  It's also a great time to get pants-shitting drunk.  Getting pants-shitting drunk leads to a catharsis.  This may or may not be based on a real experience. 
     I had attempted a physical purge this weekend, and it didn't go great.  It's nearly impossible to just throw things away nowadays.  This has been an ongoing process, starting back in June: Easier Said Than Done.  I've reached the phase of separating things where I think "I'm not using this now, but I will need it later, and it's dumb to replace it just because it takes up space."  Things like fans, heaters, blankets, and blenders.  So these things stay in my storage unit.
     Then comes the really hard part- actually throwing things away.  It's not legal.  The storage unit doesn't have dumpsters.  At first this seems odd, but I've dealt with many storage units before, and it's a thing with them.  People take advantage and dump really large things in the dumpsters and it becomes a huge mess.  So storage unit facilities just stopped having dumpsters.
      You know what the chances are that you'll caught trying to throw away your entire childhood into a stranger's dumpster?  One-hundred percent.  As incognito as you think you're being, someone is always watching their dumpster and they will make you take your trash out after they watch you dump it in.  Especially if you've dumped boxes in, because the boxes are technically recyclable.  Digging things out of a dumpster is the opposite of purging.
       Covered in garbage and frustration, I made it back to my apartment and took a non-well-deserved nap.  The process is clearly getting to me, because I dreamt about the storage unit.  In the dream, the storage unit had flooded and someone had gone in to try to save my things.  Their process of doing this was to take everything out of the boxes and set it up in a make-shift living room. The storage unit in my dream had more things in it than I have in my real one.  Things that I've gotten rid of years ago appeared in this dream storage unit, with no end in sight.  I'm now worried that when I go back , things that were thrown away will rematerialize.
      I put a pin in the physical purging for the rest of the weekend, and moved on to the emotional purging.  That wasn't really my intent, but red wine and birthday cake have magical powers.  I catharsised all over my (belated) birthday feast.  I got to give a few speeches and quote Hope Floats, though I was told later it was actually from the Bible.  Peshaw.  Hope Floats is a better reference.  "My cup runneth over."  I have wonderful friends and family and I don't have any reason to be bitter anymore.  Ah, catharsis.
     The post-catharsis headache was something else entirely.  Luckily I had left over birthday cake to get me through it.  Also, in case you're concerned, pants-shitting drunk is just an expression.  This time. 

No comments:

Post a Comment