I’m terrified of crowds. Well, not cognitively terrified – I know it’s highly unlikely I’ll get trampled or squished – but I do get a tension and anxiety in crowded places that grows, and grows, in pitch and intensity. Think of the Joker’s theme in the Dark Knight. That’s kind of what it’s like, until I really can’t breathe unless I get out in the open or find a good wall I can plaster myself to.
For this reason, I don’t go out in public on Black Friday, if I can help it. Once, my mom and sister and I went to see a movie on Black Friday – at the mall. I’m scarred for life.
Lately I’ve been frustrated by the amount of stuff that is eking out of every cranny of the small apartment I share with two girls and two cats. I’m afraid I inherited my grandfather’s “This might be useful, I should keep it” gene.
Like, “I should keep this bass guitar, because someday I might get it fixed.”
Or, “These 15 extra mugs are perfectly good. I should keep them.”
I’m not a hoarder. A couple times a year I try really hard to get rid of stuff. But there’s always more stuff to get rid of.
I’ve found the question I ask myself shouldn’t be, “What can I get rid of?” but rather, “What’s absolutely necessary?”, and then chuck (or give away) everything that isn’t.
I’ve halved my wardrobe with this question. But there’s still lots of this and that and thingamabobs shoved into closets and the back of cabinets and I THINK THE CROWDS ARE DRIVING ME INSANE.
Whew, sorry – I didn’t see that coming.
Let me try to bring this full circle. This Friday, instead of participating in the national holiday of Black Friday, I’m going to start my own tradition: White Friday. As in, Clean Slate Friday. I’m declaring war on Stuff. I’ll keep what’s precious or necessary, but everything else gets the chopping block.*
I’ll try to share the aftermath of the battle on Saturday.
Will you join me in the war, and participate in White Friday?
*Note: Cats are both precious and necessary, so they won’t be going anywhere