I am about 10 years behind the rest of the world regarding electronics and gadgetry. It is 2012 and there is no sign of Hover Boards and as a film geek this is my only reference to technology and “The Future”. I don’t really know understand what an Ipad is. We only recently ditched dial up and got wireless. I have no idea how to work ITunes. And never ever ever used Ebay to buy or sell a thing.
Well, not “now” now, because I still have done no more than register an account. But I have PLANS. MIGHTY plans. *evil laugh*
In telling my friends about my “get rich quick” plan, they come up with a variety of places to sell my rubbish to, along with heart warming yet truly hollow sentiments of “one mans trash is another mans treasure!”. Excellent. If that man likes 3 year old eye shadow and books I have dropped in the bath, then RESULT.
“Try the website ‘PreLoved'” says one friend.
“HA HA!” I say as I waggle my finger and tap the side of my nose “VERY funny! You wont get me with your oh-so-funny SEX websites! Oh, I know, why don’t I click on ‘My Easy Room Mate dot com’ like Sally said and see if THEY need any of my clutter?! HA HA!”.
Turns out, both those sites are legit and not dodgy websites at all. Hmmm. Another string to my lack-of-techo-know-how-know…
I am going to sell EVERYTHING. If it isn’t nailed down, heavy, been used in the past 6 months or breathing I am putting it on an online auction.
A few weeks ago husbands mother arrived to visit, weighed down like the bag lady from Home Alone 2 with it seemed dozens of bags of his teenage crap. Sorry, I mean “memories”. As a child of divorced parents and who got handed her childhood memories near 10 years ago, I find it hard to be sympathetic to his hoard of crap. Sorry, I mean “memories”. He waxed lyrical over clothes he had not seen in 20 years and refused to let her throw away “just in case”. If ever muttering “FFS” was justified, it was this point..and from my pursed, white, lips.
So today, on EBay Day, I make him empty it across the lounge floor and start choosing what stays, and what goes…
It was a scene reminiscent of an indian slum. Half naked kids climbing over mountains of old radio cassette players and crappy arm-pit stained tee shirts with beer bottles logos on them, stabby school maths compasses poking up between bare feet periliously, whilst Alex skulked about putting bits of broken lava lamps into a plastic carrier bag.
Ahh. My lounge.
But by 9.08am, husband was distracted from his task. He had found in his M&S bag of treasures a selection of mixed tapes from circa 1993. He scurried to the CD and Cassette player and started playing them. Ali G (I shit you not) comes on talking to Alan Partridge. This is on in the background for AN HOUR until he turns it off and puts on another.
I hiss at him
“I swear, Smudge, if your ex singing The Way You Look Tonight” is on there I will consider seperation”.
I honestly feel that clearing out garages, houses and lofts should be a pre-requisite to a marriage. Like having your bans read in church. Or meeting the other halfs friends. You need to do it as a task to see if you are compatable.
There are 4 types of clearer-out-er-ers;
1) “The Bull in a china shop”. The Bull goes RAHHHHH and goes mental, launching themselves into the area affected with junk. Throwing stuff here there and everywhere, breaking things as he goes, all mad and focussed and short tempered. He gets quickly exhausted and needs to have a shag to unwind.
2) “The Shuffler”. The Shuffler goes in, pokes about, SEEMS to be doing a thorough job but is actually simply moving stuff about, not actually getting rid of anything
3) “The Less Haste More Speed“. This person doesn’t care what they get hold of, they are THROWING it ALL AWAY and NOW. They WILL regret it at some point later, but for now, they don’t care.
4) “The Lier”. She goes in, she black bags at her own discretion and lies at a later date should her partner ask for an item that she knows she threw away but he now wants to listen to/ look at/ try and fix (again)/ wear.
Not all these types are compatable. It could end in divorce. Pick your partner carefully….
I am “The lier”. Husband is “The Shuffler”. We work. Because I lie.
But in between grimacing at insect husks falling in my hair and stopping the kids picking up old Video boxes and licking them, I bend down to clear under a shelf unit and find an old bristly boot cleaner….except, it wasn’t! It was a HEDGEHOG! Hiding in our garage. Snuck in when the garage door was broken open in Thursday. A Bristly Squatter!
And here he is. Which made us all go a bit “ahhhh” and gave me a bit more time to start throwing stuff away whilst they were all distracted. Long Live The Hedgehog Squatter.