****Please be advised that I just snorted what I hope was the recommended dosage of Robitussin straight from the bottle shortly before writing this. In my defense, I'm the only one who uses that particular bottle of Robitussin, and I was too lazy to find the dosage cup. Or a spoon. And yes, it did take me 38 seconds to remember what a spoon was. What's it to you?
I am many things. I am the multitudes. I am a woman who is bright and fun and giving.
I am also a latent hoarder.
Not big time. Not all the time. Not for all things. But it is there. It's in my genes [thanks, Mom! and Dad's side of the family!] and I see it pop up in the most unexpected of places.
I save all kinds of little bits of food. Bravo, right? Way to stay ecologically and environmentally and monetarily sound. Saving every bit of food is just smart, right? Right.
Except I have a tendency to save even those things that no one, not even me, is going to use or eat again. I know I should, and I know I could, and I know it's not like the food is bad, but sometimes it wasn't delicious, but I feel bad getting rid of it. Even though we barely managed to choke it down the first time.
So I put it in the fridge, all of it. In tiny little storage containers - which they wouldn't make unless you needed to save tiny little bits of food, right? I don't know who I think is going to eat this food, but I save it anyway. I save it for weeks, sometimes, to the point where it has adhered to the storage container through cold fusion and I have to throw both of them away.
It's like I'm waiting for a spot inspection to be a winner in the Savings Race; or maybe tiny hobos are going to show up and I'll need to feed them [why I'd feed them something gross is beyond me]; or I need to keep the fridge full at all times, and inedible leftovers work just as well as actual food.
I'm a Piler. I pile. I pile up magazines; mail that I need to sort through; paperwork that I need to take care of; coupons; glasses; notebooks; and, inexplicably, random bits of flotsam that were in my purse and I haven't quite had the energy to put into the trash.
I'll sort through stuff, periodically. And I'll get rid of things. Some things. But mostly what I do is re-organize. I'll get file folders and manila folders and designate areas of bookshelves as magazine spots. But I seldom throw stuff away, because I may need it later. Actually, mainly because I don't have the energy to figure out what to do with it and I'm afraid that if I say fuck it, and toss it, it'll be that vitally important thing that we needed and how dumb was I to get rid of it? DUMBIEST DUMB, that's how dumb.
I tell you this to ask your help. No, not to get on some t.v. show or for the name of a good, free therapist. But to explain how, when I have not left the house in 2.5 days, and I barely left the bed in that time, did I lose $85 from my desk. The husband gave me $300 for food purchasing for the next few weeks. Plus another $100 from his parents for a special dinner [v. generous, yes? I should birth out another grandchild for that.]. $315 is accounted for. $85? NO FUCKING IDEA WHERE IT IS. None.
I haven't gone anywhere. The desk didn't go anywhere. The cats aren't walking around with new fur coats or diamond collars. I'm at a loss.
I blame the tiny hobos. I knew saving that nasty food was a bad idea.