The seduction of Rubbermaids
Once you start Rubbermaiding, it's hard to stop.
For the first time, I decided to actually pack away some of my off-season clothes. I have enough space to have everything out, but things were just getting a tad cluttered. And it was time for another Goodwill/thrift store/trash pass through the wardrobe anyway. So I went to Le Target and picked up a few under-bed Rubbermaids. I put my winter sweatshirts in one, the turtlenecks in another.
And then it overcame me. The Seduction of Rubbermaids.
I found myself looking around for more things to put into Rubbermaids. My not-in-use purses! Those could go in Rubbermaids! Then they'd be in the basement and out of the way! Yeah! And...the stuffed animals that are malingering at the back of the closet! Yeah! And my sentimental-value or weight-loss-optimism clothes! Yeah, those too! Because Rubbermaids are teh awesome. They stack. They're waterproof. They're see-through so you can tell what's inside. They make you feel organized and grown-up and stuff.
If only they could make Rubbermaids for the inside of my head. That would rule. I could store things away that I don't want to think about (like my student loans) but I couldn't forget it was there, because I can see through it. My precious collegiate memories would be safeguarded from sun-fade and water damage. I could sort the daily-use data (PINs, people's names at work, how the hell to draw a calix[4]arene) into small, easy-to-access Rubbermaid drawers to prevent intermixing and confusion. Never again will I mistakenly use my banking username at Amazon, because the former would be in the "Financials" Rubbermaid while the latter would be in the "Shopping" Rubbermaid.
And once I'm done with some memories, I could just put them in a new, opaque Rubbermaid and put them away and I would be troubled no further. I wouldn't have had to pine for Lloyd for months, because he'd've been stashed neatly away in the basement of my subconscious in between Peter and that one Mitch guy. Thoughts of dear but absent friends can be stashed in see-through under-bed Rubbermaids and retrieved easily when I'm going to see them.
I think I'm on to something. Those clever folks at Rubbermaid need to get on this, stat.
Random postscript: I stocked up on Tyler candles today and damn, but those things smell fantastic.
For the first time, I decided to actually pack away some of my off-season clothes. I have enough space to have everything out, but things were just getting a tad cluttered. And it was time for another Goodwill/thrift store/trash pass through the wardrobe anyway. So I went to Le Target and picked up a few under-bed Rubbermaids. I put my winter sweatshirts in one, the turtlenecks in another.
And then it overcame me. The Seduction of Rubbermaids.
I found myself looking around for more things to put into Rubbermaids. My not-in-use purses! Those could go in Rubbermaids! Then they'd be in the basement and out of the way! Yeah! And...the stuffed animals that are malingering at the back of the closet! Yeah! And my sentimental-value or weight-loss-optimism clothes! Yeah, those too! Because Rubbermaids are teh awesome. They stack. They're waterproof. They're see-through so you can tell what's inside. They make you feel organized and grown-up and stuff.
If only they could make Rubbermaids for the inside of my head. That would rule. I could store things away that I don't want to think about (like my student loans) but I couldn't forget it was there, because I can see through it. My precious collegiate memories would be safeguarded from sun-fade and water damage. I could sort the daily-use data (PINs, people's names at work, how the hell to draw a calix[4]arene) into small, easy-to-access Rubbermaid drawers to prevent intermixing and confusion. Never again will I mistakenly use my banking username at Amazon, because the former would be in the "Financials" Rubbermaid while the latter would be in the "Shopping" Rubbermaid.
And once I'm done with some memories, I could just put them in a new, opaque Rubbermaid and put them away and I would be troubled no further. I wouldn't have had to pine for Lloyd for months, because he'd've been stashed neatly away in the basement of my subconscious in between Peter and that one Mitch guy. Thoughts of dear but absent friends can be stashed in see-through under-bed Rubbermaids and retrieved easily when I'm going to see them.
I think I'm on to something. Those clever folks at Rubbermaid need to get on this, stat.
Random postscript: I stocked up on Tyler candles today and damn, but those things smell fantastic.