Ruthless

Two days ago, The Man said to me,

"I'm going to clean the house."

I looked at him sideways. "Uh huh," I said.

"We have too much junk," he said.

"We do," I answered. It is true. We are both pack rats, and the house has been shrinking for years as we have accumulated more and more and more. We never chuck things out. We have old futons in the cupboards downstairs that have become unusable. We have castoff furniture from previous tenants that we have never used. This should be a big house, but it isn't. It is full of STUFF.

"I'll start tomorrow," he said, and he had that look in his eye. I know that look. It's the look he gets when he really means it.

I braced myself.

Yesterday morning he asked, "What shall I do about your books?"

I thought about it. There are several dozen boxes of books downstairs. Many of them are mine. I put them into boxes when I run out of shelf space, and intend to sort them later. Then I don't, because I never have time during semester. During the vacations, in the last few years, it's either been too hot and/or I was studying, and in the spring vacation I used to be studying but last spring I wasn't here. And before I was studying I was sick, and all I did was read because I couldn't do anything else. Those boxes have been piling up for YEARS. I had a book-deprived childhood, and I've never quite got over the feeling that books are treasure.

"I'll sort them out," I promised. Then I thought about it. "No, on second thought, there are boxes there that have been there for ten years or so. If I start opening them I'll never throw ANY of them out. Don't open them. I don't want to spoil this. Just let them go."

Being ruthless feels GOOD. It is also kind of scary for a packrat. I am not a natural chucker-outer.

He started the job yesterday, and you know how things always look worse before they get better, when you do this sort of cleanup? Last night it looked like a bomb had hit the house.

I left for work this morning just after six. I was teaching all day, and then there was a Kodo concert right after my last class (more about that later) for which I had free tickets. A bunch of us went, and some of us stopped for coffee on the way home. I finally got home at 11.30 pm.

Tonight it looks like TWO bombs have hit the house.

We don't have regular free big gomi (rubbish) collection these days, like we used to. When you have big gomi, you have to call City Hall and arrange for them to pick it up, and you have to pay. We have to wait for a collection date, so all the stuff he's throwing out is being arranged into piles which I am carefully avoiding investigating. What if I see something I want to keep? I DON'T WANT TO KEEP ANYTHING. I WANT IT ALL GONE. I have to be strong and ruthless, and I think the only way I can manage to maintain this for the time required is to not look. I am determined not to spoil this. I won't have time to help much, with work getting into full swing from next week, and the most helpful thing I can do is to keep out of the way and let it all happen.

But I'm also still kind of amazed. When The Man says he's going to do something, and he gets that look in his eye, he REALLY MEANS IT.