Good Deals

Dear J-

The workings of the company are opaque and obscure. No matter what you do it will be obscured by the process and results. Yesterday I got a desk — what they call a secretary, with a folding leaf writing surface which I like to think will cause us to be more proactive about keeping clutter down but I’ve already piled on a bunch of stuff (here’s some old radios and tools) so, yeah, no, apparently. What I do need is cleanup, cleanup right here in aisle one, right here in river city: there’s a bunch of stuff in boxes that need to be sorted and gone through and probably disposed of, ultimately, but there’s a ton of stuff that has yet to be repaired and is in disreptuable shape too.

In short: clutter problem. I’m sitting here thinking about getting more clutter, which is a huge issue, I think. There’s lots of stuff that I could use and too much time to contemplate it. I came home one day and theVet told me she bought some clothes not because she really needed them but because they were such a good deal, how could she have resisted? I agreed because I understand that impulse: it’s how my collection of square G-shocks has grown. You see a price that makes you rub your eyes twice, it can’t be that cheap, can it, and then you find yourself scribbling down credit card numbers because if you don’t get it then you’ll be kicking yourself for days.

Or, in the case of the Neo Geo, years, apparently: nearly fifteen years, at last count. Let me explain: the thrift stores I used to frequent in Woodland (I had a routine, a route, and four thrifts to hit, which is one of the saddest things you’ll hear all day*), one day I walk in and see evidence there was a Neo-Geo home system (AES) as evidenced by a memory card and cartridge along with a loose manual; when I walked up to the counter they said they’d just sold it a few minutes before. Guh. Ever since then it feels like I’ve been trolling for good deals just so I don’t have to feel like I’ve been missing out again. it’s crazy, I know. That’s life.


* The saddest thing, though: my shorts ripped yesterday, unbeknownst to me, and not until theVet got home and pointed them out did I realize; the saddest statement was this. “This is neither the first nor the worst time the seat of my pants have been ripped in public. This year.” So many qualifiers …


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