The Big Shots of Big Hollywood

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Fire Good

Am I the only one who can see a bright side to losing one's home in a fire? Because I confess to a tiny feeling of relief when I imagine it. Oh, to start again. To make better decisions, to be as wonderful as I imagine the Other Me would be. Sigh.

I rent a house, and it's full to the rafters with crap I've been collecting my whole life, and dragging across the country. I'm no good at throwing things away, true, but I'm pretty sure I'm just a couple of defective neurons away from the all-out packrat/hoarder danger zone.

The house, once proud, is now a bit shabby. This is what happens to houses that have been rented for 20 years or so. I've often fantasized about how I'd renovate it, if it were mine to renovate, but I think this is just because I can't stand the idea of packing up all my crap. It would be worth it to me to avoid that, by buying this money pit. That's bad. Lately, I've begun to imagine a scenario where I'm forced to move because of the termites, or the pipes, or the wiring, or any of the other perfectly legitimate health and safety concerns that might condemn this place. And I think I would just sell everything, and start over again, as if there'd been a fire. Or maybe I'd drag my stuff out to the street and post a "take any of this" sign. What I'd lose in potential yard sale dollars I'd make up in not having to have a yard sale. Which is a fair trade, in my opinion.

Ah, well,

Jenny

1 comment:

T said...

All very true. When I decided to move across the country...by train... I realized that I had a lot of stuff I either wouldn't need (like sweaters) or would be cheaper to replace than to haul across the country. I shed everything...and I mean everything... that had accumulated in my 3 bdrm apartment... furniture, books, bookcases, musical equipment, clothes, and assorted flotsom... When I set off across the country, ALL I OWNED was contained in 4 small boxes (mostly books and CDs, mailed ahead), one duffle bag and one gym bag... and one guitar. I didn't even have any KEYS in my pocket.

...and it was one of the best feelings in my life.