Relocatium Forcus

My fellow peons and I are being forced to relocate to another floor in our luxurious, zero-star Slave Tower™.  I’m not too jazzed about the idea, since we barely have enough space as it is; we’re being shoe-horned into an even tinier, slime-drenched, fetid-smelling cubby hole rife with recycled air and H1N1 lurking on every greasy, finger-printed door handle.

"Complaints tire me, slave. SILENCE!"

One thing the impending move has afforded me is the enjoyment of cleaning out my office desk drawers (one of which has never worked in the entire 6 years that I’ve been on this particular floor).  I threw out reams and reams of +5-year-old files and that was immensely satisfying.  When I moved onto my personal drawers, however, I began drowning in a thousand unused soy sauce packets from a thousand overly-sauced sushi trays;  millions of rusty, old and gummy paper clips;  and about a billion coffee-stained and dried out artificial sweetener packets.  I feel like a camera crew and a very accepting psychologist are right around the corner ready to let me throw the items away “in my own time” like a poor man’s “Hoarder.”

It was a mildly amusing moment: to think of how many times I’d thrown soy sauce into the drawer thinking that I’d eventually use it, knowing full well that I never intended to lay eyes on the thing ever again…unless I was made to as the result of a forced relocation.  So here I sit.

I resolve to save less soy sauce, paper clips and artificial sweetener at my new desk on the new floor.

Carry on.

 

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~ by seangstm on November 27, 2009.

2 Responses to “Relocatium Forcus”

  1. I frigging love “Hoarder”. It’s the only reality TV show where I mock openly. I hurl abusive comments at the poor bastards championed to throw out old Peanuts cartoons and choke back tears for the camera.

    I can say this because when my grandfather died, he had 14 lawnmowers.

    I think we all hoard something. I’m sure Josh is hoarding his love for you.

  2. LOL You may be right…thankfully, we’re both closer to the “Purger” end of the spectrum.

    Personally, for my nefarious tastes, I prefer “Life Laundry” a BBC (?) show that was basically “Hoarders” but without any sympathy for the hoarder being featured. The goal of the show was only to clean out this poor sap’s house, regardless of how much emotional upheaval, turmoil or distress it caused.

    It was brilliant.

    I vividly remember one episode where this 40-year-old flight attendant dude had lived with his auntie and she had died years earlier. He was literally drowning in this woman’s crap but he couldn’t throw it away. In the midst of just SORTING (not throwing out, mind) through the stuff to PREPARE to dispose of it, he lost his shit when he found his auntie’s security pass from the hospital she worked at.

    He was literally convulsing on the floor, blubbering like a toddler.

    In the middle of this tantrum, the organizer/shit disposer is taking the opportunity to throw out boxes of junk without his knowledge.

    It was the best thing I’ve ever seen. Period.

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