I’m ready to quit my job.

It’s not quite mill work, but this job is really getting to me.

I realized yesterday that El Guapo and I have been employed full-time, working 10, 12, even 14-hour days six days a week for the last month, entirely in the service of our possessions.* We’ve been doing what we can to rescue things damaged in the flood, and dealing with all the other things, too: sorting them, hauling them around, dusting them off, and figuring out what to do with each of them (Do we take it? If not, do we try to sell it? Donate it? Give it away?). All that has left very little time for other things we like doing more. I’m so ready to quit this job!

Of course, it’s not just my stuff I’m working for–I’m also working for the planet. There are many things that we don’t want to take with us, and the easiest way out would be to just throw everything away, but I can’t bring myself to do that. If the stuff is still usable, I’ve got a strong drive to get it to someone who can use it. You remember my fantasy about a machine that could take what I don’t want and deliver it to the people who could use it–the wish is as strong as ever.

We are managing to send stuff away through various means, and to get the things we plan to take confined in boxes and bins. This too, shall pass, I’m sure. And when it does, I will gladly embrace the chance to do some work that’s centered around something other than physical stuff. While I’m bagging items for the thrift store or wedging things into boxes, I’ll get started on a “what to do when this is over list.” Can’t wait!

 

*Not so entirely different from the work that many people are involved in to be able to buy the stuff in the first place, but this feels a little different–if it were all magically gone, we could stop!

 

[Image: ibiblio.org]