Time is money

I've been thinking about clutter. I hate clutter, so how come clutter loves me?

The other day, I was looking at our trinkets. We really don't have too many trinkets compared to what I see other people carting around in the back windows of their vehicles. I assume they ran out of space in their houses. We just accumulate in specific places -a few boxes tucked away, the odd item (a.k.a. bat beany baby) in the office, a couple of stuffed animals, and the official crap station next to the TV.

It's nice crap, mind you. Little things like the wedding couple from our cake (Happy Anniversary, Luther!), the ebony buffalo from a former coworker, the Pier 1 "African Decor" figures we picked out of the pile beside the Salvation Army dumpster.

Still, I find myself doing things like... tracking eBay auctions to find out how much my Google Da Vinci Code contest prize might go for, now that I've chucked the collectors' packaging and have only the cryptex, which I did because I was proud of winning a contest and wanted to keep it.

I mean, alone it's cool. Together with other prizes, it's clutter.

This morning I realize it's all fantasy. I have four boxes of comic books in the closet. I brought them here from Toronto because they're worth money. By the time I actually pull them down to sell them... I'm going to want to read them again!

And I'm working. Yeah, I know, I quit my job. My last day was a week ago, and I'm officially swamped. Yay, me. It's actually pretty fun. I'm learning about The American Democracy, from the Eighth Edition thereof. William Jennings Bryan was nominated by both the Democrats and the Pluralists, did you know that? Sadly, the reference no longer exists in this edition. Mr. Bryan has made room for more interesting folk. Good-bye, Mr. Bryan. And hello...

Well, crap. What the heck am I going to replace Mr. Bryan with?