Passive-Aggressive or Oblivious?

     In the early stages, obliviousness and passive-aggressiveness look a lot alike.  Various context clues can help determine which behavior you're dealing with.  I don't enjoy overgeneralizing, but often if the behavior is done by a man, it's obliviousness and if done by a woman, it's passive-aggressive.  More specifically, if my mother does it, it's probably passive-aggressive.
     For example: leaving an empty carton of milk setting on top of the trash can.  This was my mother's passive-aggressive way of saying "some asshole in this house drank the last of the milk and left it in the refrigerator.  Come home with more milk, or don't come home at all."  We all learned this when forced to eat dry cereal for a week.  However, if my platonic male roommate left an empty carton of milk on top of the trash can, it would mean simply "I do not know where this should go.  I'll put it here." 
    I came home the other day and my living room was full of books.  Some were in boxes, some were just in piles on the coffee table.  The ones that were in boxes were in open boxes, of course, not the neat sort of book box that would make for easy stacking.  These were the types of boxes that get spread all over.  It looked as though we were at one end of a used bookstore sale- either the local used bookstore went out of business and we were the lucky recipients of their inventory, or we were going to start selling used books from our living room. 
     Currently, because of my impending move, I am living out of a suitcase that sets in the corner of the living room and I am sleeping on the couch.  It's not ideal, but it's better than sleeping in the bus station.  These piles of books boxed in my suitcase and created a sort of crib out of the couch, except instead of bars it was piles of books.  It was late when I came home and I didn't have the time or energy to really deal with what was in front of me.  I pushed a few boxes out of the way to get to my suitcase, and then I crawled into the book-tomb. 
     The next morning I was upset about the books.  An obstacle course had been set up.  I accidentally knocked a stack over and felt a little good about it.  The rest of my day was fueled with a decent amount of rage over it.  The previous weekend I had filled the living room with all of my worldly possessions.  They sat there for about three days restricting access to the room before the movers came to haul them away.  There was a bit of me that thought perhaps the book thing was passive-aggressive retaliation for that.  If my mother had done it, it would have been.  And then I started to think more about the culprit of the book-splosion.
     Obliviousness.  That's all it was.  He had books and he thought "I do not know where these should go.  I will put them here."  That was it.  He was not trying to teach a lesson or prove a point.  The next day he politely asked if they were in the way; he could move them if they were.  I thought that was a bit like a beaver asking if the dam he just built was in the way.  How could it not be in the way?  But he really just didn't notice.  Yes, they're in the way.  I moved some of them and created a path so I could get to my suitcase.  I do still have to sleep in a book-tomb though.      

Easier Said Than Done

     Ah, unsolicited advice, how I despise thee.  Mostly because it doesn't really offer a solution to the problem.  Typically unsolicited advice is full of ideas that are easier-said-than-done, or really-easy-for-the-person-who-doesn't-have-to-to-it.
     I've been dealing with an easier said than done piece of wisdom for quite some time now.  The problem: I have too much stuff.  The solution: get rid of it.  Easier said than done?  Yes.  A lot.
     When you're not the one getting rid of a lot of stuff, it's really easy to just say "get rid of it" without putting much more thought into it.  Hell, even when you are the one getting rid of it, it's an easy thing to say.  "I have all this stuff.  I don't want all of this stuff.  Therefore, I should get rid of all this stuff."  But then comes the hard part: how do you get rid off all that stuff?
     It's a process and the process sucks.  You have to separate things; you figure out what's donate-able, what's sell-able, and what's pitch-able.  Sometimes you stand at the door of your storage unit kind of wishing an arsonist had their way with your stuff.  This phenomenon has occurred to me more than once.  Last year when I moved down to DC I had a moving truck full of my things parked on the street.  I wasn't looking forward to unloading it and hoped it had been stolen over night.  It would have saved me a lot of time and effort.  Well, it would have saved the movers I hired a lot of time and effort.
      Getting rid of everything is just not as easy as it seems.  You start by trying to see the big stuff that you think is still worth money.  But people don't want old tube televisions, even if they are in perfect working condition, or entertainment cabinets, even if they are really well constructed.  You update the post every week, lowering the price, until it eventually ends up in the free column.  Still, no takers.  What to do?
     Goodwill only takes so much stuff, plus, I have no vehicle, so the transport of these large objects becomes a factor.  It takes renting a truck and the help of some strong friends just to donate a handful of things.  What a pain.
      When going through the stages of actually picking out what to keep and what to get rid of though, I recommend enlisting the help of a really mean friend.  A friend pretty much devoid of sentimentality who isn't afraid to just yell "throw it away" at everything you show her.  Usually, that friend is me.  So I may have to be my own best friend when sorting out my storage unit, but I've made rules for myself and as long as I stick to them, I think I'll be ok.  The advantage I have this time around is I know I haven't looked at all the things in my storage unit for an entire year.  This makes it easier to throw them away, knowing I've already broken most of the sentimental attachment anyway.
     It's still easier said than done, however.  I have an old stereo that nobody will want.  It's not old enough to be vintage and therefore cool but it's too old to be considered useful.  Donation centers won't want it because it's missing the remotes.  You can't throw it in the trash because it has that trashcan with a circle with a line through it symbol on it.  You can't light it on fire because, well, you just shouldn't light things on fire.  It's a stereo- it won't burn anyway.   What will I do with it?  Just get rid of it, you suggest?  Yes, thank you for your help.