A friend commented on my last post that I should be kind to myself about my addiction. Instead I should blame it on whoever canceled the X-Files. Yes! That’s it! I can blame it on someone else. Perfect. If only I could claim the X-Files was my first and last addiction.
I read an article recently by a journalist who is a hoarder and I recognized a little bit of myself in him. Not so much the identity through your stuff part as the getting rid of stuff part. It’s just so, so hard to get rid of things. Because there was that one time when I got rid of something (it’s been so long I don’t even remember what it was) and the next week or month or two I needed it. It could happen again!
There are all the unread books, the clothes I keep even though they are hopelessly too small for me and don’t even ask me how many colored pencils I have. And even though my stash hasn’t quite reach SABLE (stash accumulated beyond life expectancy) levels yet I have a lot of yarn and I keep buying MORE (pictures soon)!! Sigh.
I’m not really sure what I’m trying to say here other then I have no one to blame but myself. Sigh. David Duchovny you’re off the hook.
Now, I need to go do some knitting. I need to finish my current big needle project so I can start my next big needle project. Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.