I used to play in a local classic rock cover band a long time ago, there has been some talk of getting a few guys together and making some noise. So I was looking for an old set list to look over what we used to play. It was in a box, buried in the closet. To get to this box, I had to remove at least a ton and a half (well maybe not exactly a ton and a half, but it seemed like it) of other boxes, shoes, coveralls, rifles, old pants, the list goes on and on. Then had to get the vacuum cleaner to suck up a few dustballs that were hiding back there in the abyss. 

Next thing I know I am going through old paperwork, and reciepts for tax purposes, and filling up a trash bag with stuff deemed no longer wearable, and paperwork that no longer had any useful purpose. Probably been at it for nearly 2 hours by now.

Then my neighbor calls me, he wants some help figuring out why his 5 horse Honda engine won’t run. We wound up taking the carburetor apart and cleaning it, after an hour or so we had it up and running again. Then I return home stinking of gas and carb cleaner.

The friggin closet still looks like it has exploded. It takes me another 3 hours getting all of this crap sorted out, and half assed organized, and put back in some orderly fashion. I am just now sitting down and taking a break. Got it all done. That one piece of paper I went in for was found, but it took an entire afternoon to get it.

This is just a warning to anyone headed into the closet looking for a treasure buried there. Run! It isn’t worth it! Think of the children!! I just had the crazy notion of living in your house till it gets so full of junk you can’t find the back of the closet… then burn it down and start over. That almost seems reasonable after experiencing the time warp nightmare that was once a closet, this day.