Purge

This post is an apt sequel to my previous, as its subject is, similarly, the state of my home.

(I just one minute ago, after reading chapters 8 and 9, surrendered Bleak House to my coffee table for the evening, so I'm sure you readers will forgive my opening sentence being of a rather Dickensian fashion...not that I'm presuming to be any sort of genius in the manner of Dickens).

Okay, we've been living in our house for a little over three years now, and in that time have either acquired or created two additional living entities to impose upon our habitat (Kid/Dog). These entities came with stuff. Lots of stuff. And I keep buying stuff. And Dave keeps buying stuff. It's like our house has binged...and, ladies and gentlemen, if you'll excuse a rather inappropriate eating disorder metaphor...I'm ready for the purge.

I am feeling a SERIOUS need to rid my house of all things I don't either: a) need, or b) find meaningful/beautiful. I need organization. I need feng shui. Basically, I need my house not to look like a shitbox.

To this end, I will accomplish the following:

1) Purchase/find/dig out from existing shitbox many cardboard storage boxes

2) Choose a room in which to begin (I've already chosen - it'll be the bedroom)

3) Clear all surfaces and remove all shit except large furniture

4) Re-evaluate the layout of the room, determine which additional shit is necessary, and in what location the shit will be most efficiently utilized

5) Empty boxes, placing items in either the room at large, or in one giant extra cardboard box labeled "SHIT TO DONATE"

Goodwill, I think you and I will both be winners in this situation.

(Any opinions or suggestions on my plan of action here are most welcome).

Clearing a Path

There is a show on the Discovery channel entitled "Life After People", which I caught a glimpse of the other day. Basically, it shows what would happen to our monuments, landmarks, and cities if all people on Earth were to die. (I know it's all just for fun and educational entertainment, and it doesn't matter in the least, but I enjoy trying to wrap my mind around the fact that, in order for the show's premise to work, there would have to occur an event so miraculous that it achieves population wipeout while keeping our cities perfectly intact, so that we can watch the destruction of nature from a starting point that we recognize. Anyway.)

Of course after many years, structures start crumbling, plant life takes over, and by the time we're 10 million years gone, it's like we were never here in the first place, since everything is just overgrown with vegetation and dirt.

I just returned from an 8-day trip overseas, during which Husband, Child, and Dog were left behind to their own devices. When I walked into my house, I immediately thought of this show. There were dishes towering in the sink...grime covering the countertops...unopened mail and laundry completely obscuring the dining room table. When I looked in the bathtub behind the shower curtain, I actually gasped.

I'm considering producing my own show entitled "Life After Wife," in which I routinely escape to exotic places while leaving my family behind for a camera crew to capture how they (and the homestead) fare without me. I think it's a great idea, as long as someone besides me does the cleaning when I return home. It didn't happen that way this time.

Spanx Spokeswoman

About a week ago, I sat drinking the first diet Coke of the day while waiting for a Saturday morning rehearsal at OLG to begin. A woman who has known me for several years arrived and shook me out of my sucralose stupor with the following question:

"Are you pregnant again?"

"No," I replied. "Why?"

"You used to be so skinny," she said, "and now you have a little tummy."

!

Well, I can't truly say that I took offense. First, WHY did I ask why? Second, she's right. I totally have a tummy. And many times when I catch a glimpse of it, I say to myself, "holy shit Cyndy, you look like you're about five months along."

Still...it's a fine line between tactfulness and truthfulness.