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Clutter

Things found while going through drawers full of stuff:

  • Bank statements from four years ago.
  • Previously unopened letter from Yamaha, a customer satisfaction survey delivered shortly after my first bike was stolen.
  • Opened letter from the local psych unit, asking me to come in and see someone. I did, they said they'd be in touch and never were.
  • Statement for my student loan, from last April.
  • Paperwork from a course more than a year ago on classroom management.
  • Lohnsteuerkarte (equivalent to a P60) from 2002.
  • Every job rejection letter I ever received,now securely in the bin.
  • The packaging of magic mushrooms I ordered, waiting to dispose of to avoid familial inquisition.
  • 20 cans of Red Bull, likewise. Consumed in a three-day period.
  • Three video cassettes, worn to uselessness.
  • My old Nokia 8110 (bought cheap, when I had a better handset because the better handset just didn't feel right).
  • A map of the Tube, from before I knew how to play Mornington Crescent.
  • The Surgery gig list from back in Stafford.
  • My copies of Unknown Armies and Exalted: The Siderials, hidden in a drawer blocked by way too many books.
  • An old plastic tub that used to hold a travel razor and now lies empty.
Detritus, all of it, and a ton more besides. But all with mnemonic keys and powerful imagery associated with it. State-associative memory, bringing back scraps that I thought I would never remember, flashes of things that were gone for good beforehand. A powerful dose, for sure.

Every time I tidy somewhere I can never keep it up. Paperwork and stuff (painkillers, menus for the local Indian, spare pens) build up. First on the desk-space, if I have any. Then over onto nonessential chairs and flat spaces atop empty shelves. Then just onto the floor in general, to the point where I live in a small island surrounded by media and paper.

I should learn to tidy, but a place doesn't look lived in unless there's notes on case grammar, the Sierpinski gasket, and binary operations in the finite field GF(28) in easy reach. It's only when things are in easy reach that I remember to think about them.

Comments

( 2 informants — We want information! )
coaldustcanary
Jan. 19th, 2005 02:41 am (UTC)
Get a fishy for your desk.

Seriously - having Silver's 2.5 gallon tank taking up about a third of my front desk space has forced me to keep better control over my mess-sprawl.
digitalraven
Jan. 19th, 2005 12:54 pm (UTC)
I would, but then the mess would hit the floor sooner.

Damn stuff.
( 2 informants — We want information! )

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