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The lens of perspective - Elf M. Sternberg
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elfs
The lens of perspective
Along that spectrum of joys and agonies that is life, helping one friend evict another has to rank somewhere down amongst the infra-reds of suck. It doesn't help that the evictee was once a beautiful, vivacious young redhead straight out of a Heinlein novel, who has since been laid low by a collection of medical problems that leave her wheelchair-bound for much of the day. I can't help but admit that I really ached for both sides, but I also understand the sense of betrayal and the unwillingness of the evictor to be dragged down by someone who needs "rescue."

Oh, yeah, I understand that last part. Unlike someone else I know, I rarely show my scars in public.

We helped her and her sister-- who's fully abled-- pack their stuff and get ready to stick most of it in storage. There was an unimaginable depth of junk, dead computers and a thousand stuffed animals and things she hadn't seen "in years." I had to wonder-- is it a guy thing to ocassionally purge stuff when he has only a 90% confidence he'll never read/play with/use something again? I do that, mostly with physical stuff-- data gets shoved into progressively bigger hard drives just because they don't take up a lot of space. Her sister must have been in full denial because she just stayed in her room.

Kouryou-chan and Yamaarashi-chan were completely unaware of what sort of emotional walling-off was going on in the meantime. They played in the front yard of the house with their Nerf ball and bat, and frisbees, and various other miscellany toys they and two other kids from the work party. New kids are always a vast distraction for them.

Afterwards, the work party turned its attention to the house she'd been living in, cleaning it up. I was a little worried about the front left corner of the house, where there seems to be some wood rot under one of the soffits, but I hammered them back into place anyway. The roof was a mess, and since I had a lot of experience up on roofs, having scraped nearly sixty pounds of moss off my own roof last week, it was my turn to go up. Someone else loosened the moss with a broom while I cleaned out the gutters, and then we traded off the pressure-washer to finish the job. Then I went about to each gutter and hammered them back into place; there was so much weight in them from the crap that had collected over the years that the nails holding them up and in were coming lose. There were runs to the dump and runs to the storage center.

Gods, that was ugly.

Later, we went over to Desirae's house. She had been part of the work party as well, and her place was close and had the all-important hot tub. In deference to our ages, we had pizza, hard lemonade, and ibuprofen out on the counter. The girls were stunned with a Pooh movie and dinner while the rest of us tubbed and tried not to talk about the necessary tragedy we'd just abetted.

Current Mood: depressed depressed
Current Music: NPR News

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Comments
From: flying_pegasus Date: May 31st, 2004 06:22 pm (UTC) (Link)

Dang

That brought me down. You want to help me move in to my new house. You can build the corrals for me before I move in.

J/K I got it cover....I think? If not I'll start screaming in my journal.
From: (Anonymous) Date: June 1st, 2004 05:56 am (UTC) (Link)
Been that, done there. This weekend I will have to do something very simular. It is not something to be enjoyed but endured. You have my sympathy and understanding.

D.
From: j5nn5r Date: June 1st, 2004 07:06 am (UTC) (Link)

Boy, you can write, friend.

Those first two paragraphs were quite painful to read. Wow.

Thank you for your help, and your understanding. I am in your debt.

From: (Anonymous) Date: June 1st, 2004 09:47 am (UTC) (Link)

Guy thing?

I (being male) don't think it's a guy thing to occasionally get rid of stuff.

I collect books, and when I say collect, I mean collect. I have books in boxes all over my parent's house, I had shelves and boxes of books at my place, and I recently had to move out-of-state. Which required me to get rid of at least 1/2 the books in my place. I was still left with ~12 boxes of books, and I have to say that getting rid of that other half was horribly painful.

I _also_ just keep packing data onto bigger and bigger hard drives (and CDs, DVDs, Zip disks, etc.) and I think that in my case at least, it's just another aspect of my packrat behavior. Strangely, I don't have this sort of problem with clothes (although my mother and grandmother do).

Having thought about this for a bit, I suspect that this behavior is loosely related to an addictive personality disorder -- I literally _can't_ pass up an opportunity to get a book at a reasonable price (read: used) unless I have already got my "fix" for the day. If it's been too long since I've gotten a used book, I'll usually run out and buy a couple of new books to compensate.

-Malthus
From: katybeth Date: June 2nd, 2004 11:31 am (UTC) (Link)
It's not a guy thing. Seth and I are very similar in our degree of packrattishness. And I believe the two sisters you describe are quite the opposite of each other in theirs.
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