"You have new notifications"

My cousin died the other day. I know because it was posted on Facebook.

It used to be that you would learn of the death of a friend or a family member from another friend or family member- a phone call was most common. Sometimes you might hear the news in person, if the deceased were especially close to you, so that the one delivering the message would be there, to offer you comfort.

Now, I learned of my cousin’s death in a post that was sandwiched between a cartoon pun and a sponsored ad for online learning.

Page down for pictures of a Friend’s latest restaurant meal and some ads to subscribe to the New York Times.

Such are the Times we live in.

Clutter could be the death of me

Stop hating on Marie Kondo, y'all. Because whatever works. Kondo could save my life. Because I'm drowning over here, I can't breathe.

My closets are crowded. My garage is bad.

My basement looks like an audition for Hoarders.

Sometimes, I go for days without thinking about it. Then, I will go into the basement, and come up spiraling down into depression.

There are objective treasures and undoubted trash stacked upon one another.

A few years ago, I was directing a show. We needed a covered dish as a prop. I said, I'll look in my basement. I brought a covered dish the next day. A day or two later, we needed a rubber chicken.  I said, I'll look in my basement. The next day, I brought the rubber chicken. We needed a wooden sword. I said, I'll look in my basement...

One of the stage managers said, I think I'd like to see this basement!

I said, No. No, you wouldn't.

No one is allowed in my basement. You have to be related to me, or I will have to kill you so that you can never reveal my shame. All of my children have significant others, so you can't marry into my family, and I've no room to bury your body. So, no, you can't go there.

It's hard to get rid of the STUFF in my basement.  There is straight up trash. There are items of value. These are mixed together so thoroughly that it's hard to pull them apart.

There are books, SO MANY BOOKS (I know, this where a bunch of haters hate on Marie, and I don't hold with the number limit on books, so I almost get it in this instance), some of which are directly connected to my heart, so they have to stay. There is furniture that is either still usable or still in use, storing decades of photos, and newspaper clippings. Some of it is furniture that I should be able to SELL, right?

There are old clothes, old costumes, old play programs, cassette tapes, vinyl records, VHS tapes, ancient boots, and knick-knacks.

There are Mothering Magazines and Mother Earth Magazines. There are TIME magazines no longer timely.

I'm DROWNING. Seriously.

I do have a plan (there's always a plan).  I'm about to embark on a new attempt to clear out my basement, and thus my life.

Pray for me.