A Case of Consumption

I love how in the 19th century tuberculosis was called "consumption." Even today, 1/3rd of the world carries the disease --- one that has largely been eradicated in the West. Oddly enough, other "consumption" diseases still plague our culture. One of our greatest strains of consumption, regarding possessions, is rampant in my house right now.

My roommate has a ton of stuff. When I saw the place, to be honest, I thought the distribution of stuff was a bit more equal between the two former roommates. Basically, it was not. And the short end of the stick ended up in my hand. Now, I can't really fault her for having the same consumption issue I have. I mean, I had a good feeling about living with her because I think we have a lot in common. Those things in common might not always be our best traits, but you take the good with the not-so bad.

Had I been replacing the one with the stuff, I'd be in much better shape. But I feel like a guest in my own house, stuff-wise. It's almost like my roommate's case of consumption is outcompeting mine, ecologically-speaking. My little transplanted consumption virus is fighting for survival. So I politely ask for a couple more cupboards, which she immediately obliges, then proceed to fill them up today. The kitchen is pretty well settled now though, only a couple odds and ends remain.

The real disaster is the office. I could really use a good-sized office. There's probably some space to steal in the basement, but it's damp and stinky (as basements tend to be). But in the meantime, I parse papers and books and traces of art projects I've been dragging around, trying to figure out what can go in the basement "for now" and putting off having to drag things around further. I've colonized the office and part of the roommate's spare room, and I need to do something about it immediately. I won't even get into the bedroom, except to say that I think we've hit critical mass up here. That is to say, it will be fine once I put things away, but nothing is put away yet. And we can't take much more stuff up here either.

So of course, the obvious answer is to start getting rid of things. I'm thinking yard sale. The proceeds can go toward a dehumidifier for the studio space I intend to carve out down there. I have some extra furniture and could definitely unload some things. All the old paperbacks are going to be sold, in favor of my purchase of a fresh copy if/when I ever finally get around to reading "The Decameron" for instance. Having some of my old books after 10 years is so nice, but I certainly don't need everything I have.

It'll get there. And before long I will pare down the amount of things that are here and live with less. Which will feel great. Kind of like being sick, but slowly you fight back and the viral load reduces and you begin to feel better. But like the old-time consumption, it always lingers. Sometimes the symptoms manifest, other times they remain dormant for a while. But once you have the consumption, you have it for life. Things like moving and yard sales certainly do keep it at bay.