I have just had an epiphany. I am a pack rat. I must clean, clean. clean to organize and catalog all the shit that I keep. And trust me, my shit is shit. I am reminded of George Carlin’s “…their stuff is shit, and your shit is stuff…”. Well, I am the exception. I keep shit I’ll never use. And I keep multiples of it, too. There is also the fact that I am drawn towards other people’s shit. One man’s trash is another man’s treasure is entirely true. Last week I found a table in the basement, I kept it. Thankfully this time it actually was a nice object, and it was put to use. I replaced a table of lesser quality and got rid of the old one, so I made a nice trade. Still, I was just so damn pleased with myself and what I found. This is wrong. This type of behavior is one of an addictive personality. I am addicted to stuff. It is a disease, it is contagious, and it does not have a cure. Today I am going to try and part with some of my precious stuff. I hope I can deal with the separation anxiety.