Why is it hard to throw things out?
Why is it hard to let things go?
You say that it’s all for my own good—
But why do I feel like I’m going to miss
That one thing that could make all the difference?
Doesn’t it sound like the refrain from a country western song? Alas, it’s the story of my life…
In order to move back into my home office with the new sliding door (which smells great, by the way!), I was told that I needed to go through everything and toss things out. Sounds easy and pretty straight forward, but therein lies the rub. I’ve religiously collected articles about food and health, recipes, coupons, what-have-you, basically things that HB (nickname for husband) considers trash. Then there are stacks of magazines— BusinessWeek (a gift from my Dad), Cooks Illustrated (a gift from my old roommate), Real Simple, National Geographic Traveler, and the list goes on.
To some people, a clean, Spartan house with each meaningful object in its right space, makes a dream house. But to me it’s not a home. It’s like a staged house for sale or a furniture showroom. I like my stacks, my little kitschy knick-knacks, my Princess’s marks on paper. It says we live here, this is our home, this is my space.
In the meantime, I’ve been ousted to the outer reaches of the dining room—a dark, lonely place with stuffy, grown-up furniture that we received as a wedding present, and no natural light. The only source of life is two stalks of mother-in-law’s tongue in an oversized pot. My workstation is here until we order a new desk for me and until the junk is thrown out. Looks like it’s going to be a long time…
Last night, as I was sorting through my stacks of papers and trying quickly to read Sunday’s Chicago Tribune, I learned that one of my favorite comfort foods, McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish, has a “foaming agent” called dimethylpolysiloxane, which may cause hypersensitivity reaction, nausea, and diarrhea. Talk about heartbreak! We still hear about the melamine in China’s milk, but what about dimethylpolysiloxane in our Filet-O-Fish at home?
OK, so dimethylpolysiloxane is a mouthful, and we wouldn’t want our newscasters to make fools out of themselves. But, why isn’t there any more press on this? Is it because not enough people have died from it yet? And who’s the idiot who decided to put it in food?
Anyway, thank you, Julie Deardorff (features and health columnist), for making my day. You have reinforced my position to keep my rags and periodicals nearby.
I am a pack rat and proud of it.