A Non-Newtonian Fluid (maddening) wrote,
A Non-Newtonian Fluid

So I'm bored. Again still and always. I just finished threw out what is probably about $200 of groceries that are past their expiration and just taking up space.
And that's just the shit that was in the GARAGE.
My mom never stopped buying like she was cooking for 6. And she's stopped caring about tidyness.
I'm no neat freak. I've been known to generate quite a helacious mess on my own.
But I also get sick of it and clean it all up at some point or another. I always have my snapping point.
My mom no longer has a snapping point. It all just rolls right off and piles right up.
I'm getting pretty damned tired of it.
So I'm just going around and cleaning and organizing the bits that I can. The other day it was the closet, today the project was the clear out the cabinet out the in the garage where things got thrown before thanksgiving so that it can be pulled out, painted, and put to its original purpose of storage the piles of Videos ranged around the TV.
That *might* happen this weekend, if I can push my mom to it.
And I think I might be able to do that.
Tomorrow I can tackle the rest of the food stores in the kitchen and get rid of the expired things, organize the keepers, and remind my mom that if she needs it for a recipe, chances are she already has it. I want to organize her spices and figure out a way to MAINTAIN COUNTERSPACE. Everytime I reorganize it so that you can actually chop things on the counter instead of taking the board over to the dining room table within a week it's completely covered again.

I'm just a lil frustrated by the living conditions. I always have been ... but it just gets worse and worse.
I feel like I'm living in the hallway entrance to the Finn's shop in the first three Gibson books. All those moldering magazines and the interesting lumps and piles of gomi , threatening to topple in on you.
But see... my father is a total DICK about all this (nevermind the fact that we don't eat at the dining room table because his shit is 3 feet deep over the majority of it. ) and makes my mom feel horrible and that just makes her even LESS motivated to do anything about this.
If he'd just keep his mouth shut, and let me do my thing, I'll have everything cleaned and my mom will maintain it.
I know this woman.
And this is an overwhelming job. Always always always.. if I make the start, she jumps right in.

And I am in desperate need of projects. This will keep me busy until I can move out the donation stuff in my room and get to packing up my stuff. The thing that's preventing me at the moment is that I have probably 4 feet of total moving space. I have to move out the bags of goodwill clothes and shoes before I can get down to more junk sorting and more actual packing.

Glass things... probably approaching 1,000 books. 500 or so CDs... And then random stuff. Breakables and books. That's what I'm worried about.
I should probably think about getting my license again, eh?
I don't know how I'm going to get my life from here to there.. and ya know...
I realize it's a pain in the ass to move furniture and it'll just be cheaper if I leave it all behind... but I have these two chairs. One of them I've had since high school, the other since I moved in with Tom. They were bought at thrift stores for under $10 each. They're ugly and old and sometimes they require restuffing and stitching back up and they're crap pieces of crap furniture ... but they're MINE ... ya know?
I hate the idea of leaving these things behind.
I will if I have to ... I just really hate the idea. (it actually makes me tear up)

There's something to be said for starting clean.. but there's also something to be said for keeping parts of yourself around. I'm going to the other side of the country, away from my family, away from everything I've ever been around, away from everything familiar...

I want my damned chairs.
guh.. listen to this crap...
Sometimes I think I *must* be psyhotic. heh.

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