Crisis continued.

     The task at hand was no small feat for a mortal.  There were piles upon piles of stuff that had accumulated upon and around the kitchen table.  Disgraceful.  I was disgusted.  They'd always say they just didn't know where to start.  I just started.

     I occupy the end of the table.  That is where a lot of my shit including the mail goes.  I set up 2 boxes.  1 would be for just junk mail, envelopes, anything without a name or address.  Obviously the second box was for the latter.   

     There is no other way to say it.  I began.  And what a disaster. Worked for 2 or 3 hours, only interrupted by dinner, whatever that was.  Once or twice my sister tried to call the hunt off, feeling badly.  She was stressed about that and the cancer.  But I had a mission now and was determined.  Told her it would be done by the weekend.

     The rest of the week passed.  Not much cleaning except for here and there by me.  Was really tired on Wed.  I had been in the kitchen until 10.  You getting the idea of the mess :)

     Saturday came.  I allowed myself some time and got to work.  By afternoon the table was cleared.  Oh the boxes I'd left as well.  I wasn't entirely sure of my mind set.  But a theme began to emerge.

     I was coming up with stuff from 2011.  I'd been letting shit slide as I descended into full blown CHF.  Guess I just kept it going long after I should have stopped.  At least it made sense to me.  

     There were a few paper boxes on the floor filled with previous times I was going to clean the table.  Apparently those times had been abandoned.  No I don't know why.  There were more than a few empty Oatmeal boxes.  The kind you get from Costco or the big box stores.  They came in handy.  I had boxes from my cigar orders, WTF.  Yes a slob.  But I dug in and persisted.

     At some point in the afternoon my brother in law rejoined me.  I took a break.  I came back and then so did he.

"Is this garbage?" he'd ask.

"If it's over 6 months, out it goes.  No one missed then, no one misses it now."

     That was my philosophy.  In fact just before he rejoined me I'd come across a cache of magazines.  From 2010.  Names ripped off and into the paper boxes.  No one would miss them.  And when I say magazines I also mean catalogues.

     By Saturday night around dinner time we were almost done.  I was damned pleased.  Unfortunately I was correct.  No paper work showed up.  But now there was room to eat at the kitchen table.

     The hope was the Dr. would find it when he got back from vacation.  Or her personnel department could help us out.  Neither would come true.  Don't know what awaits.


-later