Cleaning My Room, Part 1,547

Joe Myers lived across from us. Actually, just slightly at the corner of ours and down the street which faced us. A corner lot, of which he owned probably two parcels. From the start of my awareness, I began to notice that, when he came home from work, he trimmed about 1/5 or 1/6 of the hedge which went around the front and down the street.

I asked my mother about it and she said if he cut it that way, there was only a small amount he’d have to do every day, rather than a whole lot once a week. That made sense to me: for big jobs, attack it in small portions.

My DNA admits of no particular sense of order. I know where everything is and you will find no crumbs or other detritus on the backs of ants. Nonetheless, things tend to pile up and you’ll just have to live with it.

My next project is my bedroom closet, but right now I’m working religiously (or, with any atheists out there, determination) on my day room and making rather good progress. It’s amazing at just how much “put aside” junk mail you can toss, videotapes which have accumulated around the tv and need only to be put back on the shelf.

I gave away my record collection when I woke up one morning and said, “Y’know, I’m really never going to be a disc jockey again.” This was about ten years after the fact, which shows it takes some people a while. Felt a loss? Not at all; I was relieved that it was gone and life moved on.