Sometimes I like to cry bitter tears because of the stupid books, movies and TV shows that actually get made or published. Like I could walk through a room and pull 15 ideas out of a hat that would be more intelligent. Any reality show on TLC or Fox sound like they were made by a teenager that had to come up with a project the night before it was due. So when heard about this book called The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing, I cringed into my cereal. Another really short titled book that got published before I did.
Of course I never read it, but my wife did. And she told me all about how it worked. Basically, you fold your clothes in a particular way in order to make more space. And the clothes you don’t keep you are supposed to thank for their service, then release them to their doom. A garage sale or thrift store where they will spend many more years of not getting thanked. So while spring cleaning and getting rid of stuff, I decided to thank some of my clothes.
Tie #1: Thank you Dilbert Novelty tie for making me think I was funny for a few minutes when I walked into the room, until everyone started talking about what an idiot I was for wearing it as soon as I turned around.
Tie #2: Thanks a Red Checkered Tie for helping me fail masterfully in that job interview last summer.
Tie #3: Thanks a lot gold and silver checkered tie for not telling me about that pen mark on you when I was at a graduation. I was not humiliated at all.
Tie #4: Thanks purple tie. While I loved your color, it seemed like you were consistently cinching a little tighter every time. What are you trying to say with that?
Onto the socks.
Pair of Socks #1: Thank you for protecting me from the nail I stood on. If it wasn’t for the super protective yarn you are made of, I never would been able to writhe in pain like that. Who needs shoes when you have socks?
Pair of Socks #2: Thank you so much for helping me meet the minimum requirements of being at work. My feet want to thank you for keeping them so close together that it isn’t at all uncomfortable to be next to each other. They love their 10 hours of closeness that they don’t smell at all.
Beard: I want to thank you for catching the food I lose when eating. You’ve really grown on me. But why must you cling so hard when I try to get rid of you that I bleed?
Shirt #1: Thanks for helping me remember what year the Spurs won the championship. But is it so much to ask for you to grow a little? And do you have to fade as fast as my interest in work at 3 pm?
Shirt #2: Thank you for making me only 25 years behind in fashion. Your permanently popped up collar, your companion shirt, and the boat shoes you always hang out with, take my fashion to a whole not other level.
Shirt #3: Thank you for “claiming” to be wrinkle free and not stepping up to the plate when I needed a shirt and you were the only clean one.
Pant: Thanks for always being a barrier between me and comfort. You were always there to cover me when people came over, but at the cost of comfort.
After doing that, I really can see how it helped. It was great to remember all the hard work those things had to do for me. And the memories, the bad memories of having to wear them for so many years. I can’t imagine what kind of nice things they are going to say about me!
Bitter Thank You Ben