I used to go through my stuff every five years. Tools, hardware, wood, etc. I gave it away or threw it away. My ‘Living Partner’ just filled up the empty spaces with her shit (Tupperware, plastic shopping bags, Xmas lights/ decorations that don’t work, etc., etc., etc.) I said she is a hoarder. Said “don’t call me a whore!” I said I’m going to Mexico, call me when you are dead so I can straighten this shithouse up.
My place looks like an organized
Army Surplus store.
“Saving Private Ryan” plays in
The background and I’m happy.