Spring has sprung and I guess there’s no better time than now to declutter my home and my life.
I need to reduce my life’s complexity. And I’m not just talking about that favorite mechanical pencil that doesn't work anymore that’s still on my desk, or bills from 3 years ago that I've forgotten was in my purse (which isn't there anymore, by the way, as of 5 minutes ago), a Little Mermaid pillow which has prints you couldn't even make out anymore because of the number of times it’s been washed, and over 50 shirts that I couldn't let go of because I’m holding on to false hopes that they’re going to fit me again someday, hopefully in this decade of their sentimental value.
Things that I need to get rid of to simplify my life, in no particular order of importance:
1. Wanting to finish watching LOST. And not just because it’s ridiculous how the ladies of the show managed to find clothes that not only fit them, but flatter their bodies as well (in an island!), when I can’t find a decent pair of jeans even after 2 hours at the mall. Seriously. Who can keep up? My life is mind-boggling enough trying to understand why there are so many rude people in this world. I don’t need to be confused by the hatch, the others, the numbers 4 8 15 16 23 42, and all their time-traveling.
2. I do not need MySpace’s highly tweakable layout to make my background look like the sky at night with its twinkling stars. I do not need Friendster’s option to see that Ms. or Mr. Stalker Mc Creep viewed my profile 823 times. I do not have a double life and am therefore connected to the exact same people so Facebook is one too many social networking sites for me to have. Between managing my business page, playing Scrabble, Literati, commenting on friends’ status and photos, Facebook already makes me look like I don’t have a life. It is enough. I mean, I gotta feed the baby and pee at some point in time during the day, right? Sleep at night, too.
3. Speaking of Facebook, I am decluttering my notifications. Sure, I wanna know if you’ve given birth. Heck, I wanna see what the baby looks like and what you’ve named it and comment every now and then about how cute he or she is and how you’re doing a great job as mommy/daddy. What I don’t want to know is how many times your baby burped, spat out, farted, pooped, threw up, went to the daycare, went back home.
Sure, I wanna know if you’re going on a vacation to China/Greece/Cuba/Italy and I would very much like to wish you a safe trip and to tell you to bring me something back. But I don’t want know about the places you’ve checked in to. I’ll survive not knowing that you went to Future Shop, then to Best Buy, then to Mc Donald’s, then to Starbucks, then to the mall, then to the toilet, then to bed where you curled up in a fetal position and bawled like a baby because he didn’t call you back. Really.
Lastly, as a friend, I would want to know what’s going on in your life. But I do not want to know what sexual position you are, who your celebrity husband is, what kind of flower/color/shoes you are, or what your cyber fortune cookie says. If you really, really, really had to take the quiz, you have an option to not publish them. We don’t have to see the results of your “JeJeMoN PoH bAH kOh” quiz. If you took it, you are.
4. Still on Facebook, I’ve decided to clean up my friends list. I have a little over twelve hundred friends on my list, from elementary to high school to university classmates, coworkers from a number of workplaces, family friends, family members, clients, neighbors, teachers and photographers from a 365 project community (the only people I add that I’ve never met but in constant communication with).
I feel bad unfriending people I actually know just because I don’t interact with them. But I asked myself if I really need to connect with someone I went to elementary school with, who probably stole my eraser and made me cry at one point in time, and the answer is no.
These are people who would only greet me a happy birthday on Facebook because it says so on the right side of the home page, beside the little red gift box and not because they actually remember the date. These are people who added me because they’ve seen and talked to me a couple of times when I was with the person they actually know.
I also don’t need to be connected to that neighbor from back home who I never played with anyways because he picks his nose and then his teeth, or that teacher I worked with but never talked to outside the classroom, or the ex-friend backstabber who apologized and said she wanted to patch things up so I accepted her friend request but that’s just to see if she’d backstab me again. Round one and I’ve deleted over 50 people that I know but don’t interact with all that much. Several rounds and hundreds more people to go.
5. Plastic containers. I don’t cook at all that much and with my parents living so close, I can just always “take out" from them, which is why I’ve amassed a collection of plastic containers of all shapes and sizes, some with lids I can’t even find anymore. What used to occupy just one drawer in the kitchen, now occupy 2 cupboard sections. Time to let go of them.
6. Just as it’s a must for me to free up cupboard space and throw away plastic containers, I have to free my life of drama and let go of plastic people. That coworker who told you to hold off on a proposal because the company isn’t ready for the kind of changes you were suggesting, but in reality just needed time to steal your idea and make it his/her own, cut him/her out of your life. Friendship isn’t mandatory in a workplace.
That friend who wiped your tears during the most difficult time of your life and told you everything’s going to be okay, but secretly performed a victory dance over the fact that you make his/her life look fantastic compared to yours, sever all ties with that person. They do not deserve you.
Now, I’m not going to tell them to f@#k off the face of the earth just to get my message across. If the world survives tomorrow (har, har), I’m just going to stop trying with these people. Because really, if you think about it, the fact that I have to try further proves that it isn’t real enough of a friendship to begin with.
7. Socks without partners. If, after 2 more laundry days, I still can’t find the partner, that sock is going to go. I will accept the painful reality that washers and dryers do indeed eat socks and let go of the notion that the other pair will show up again. I have lots of socks without their significant others. I shall put them out of their miseries and just throw them away. Maybe they can all match up again in that place where missing socks go.
8. Stuff I don’t use but can’t throw away because they came from Charles. I have this little box of knick knacks from the firsts of our 9-year relationship. In it is the box of the first bracelet he gave me for an anniversary, a watch that I forgot wasn’t waterproof so now it’s broken because, yes, I got it wet, a golf ball from the first time we went to the range, etc, etc. Those things are okay to keep because they don’t take up space. But there’s a total gym under my couch that I don’t think I’ll ever use again because there this was one time I opened it and got my thumb caught, and off went quite a chunk of skin. Then there’s this mini-fridge that’s been sitting in the garage for over 5 years now. I know it’s clean, I just don’t know if it still works. I can’t keep these things just because they hold sentimental value or because they were given by an important person. The person’s still here with me so I don’t need those things to remind me of him. I’m going give them away or sell them if someone’s willing to buy. Then I’ll the money to buy a new watch. Waterproof this time.
There’s still a load of stuff that I need to throw away but this is all the time I have for now. If The Rapture doesn't come, I’ll write more soon.
