Today my husband loaded those broken down cardboard boxes into the back of the Jeep Patriot and I delivered them to the enormous dumpsters at the recycling center.
After I returned home, we filled the back of the Patriot with broken flower pots, a cracked fifty gallon plastic drum, a sack filled with broken down looseleaf binders and a smattering of styrofoam peanuts, old plastic tubs, a broken set of wind chimes, a broken lamp, a broken tea table and… the gigantic business sign from the remedial reading center, a valiant business effort my husband’s deceased first wife attempted years ago. We took it all to the dump.
I was exhausted and fell asleep almost as soon as we got home.
A young friend, forced into shoveling clutter at a tremendous rate in order to move house on short notice, texted us to touch base.
We sent virtual hugs.
Then I texted back:
“When Anger grows stronger than Fatigue, STOP.”
She promised she and her husband would do just that.
Tomorrow I will clear and sort stuff from that last shelf…