Cleaning the Library

So I was going to post something yesterday, but I never got around to it. I wanted to share something with humor, but after cleaning a house for two days, you start to lose the joy. On a positive note, I managed to find space for a gargantuan desk, create a high shelf, relocate all other furniture, and moved a TV without herniating myself.

How did I do this? By shoving all the shit into boxes and hiding the boxes around the desk. Now when I say shit, I want to give you an idea of the stuff we have accumulated. First, there was all the trash. There was tremendous satisfaction in throwing away old papers, assignments, etc. that I will never need to look at again. Why won't I look at old assignments? Because I have finally stepped into the 1990's and embraced the internets. Not really. I am terrified of the internet and believe that a mix of The Matrix and Terminator will take place. 

("When the war against machines becomes real, will you be ready? Train to live off the grid! Hire me as a Personal Trainer! I can't teach you anything about survival, but I can make sure you look strong and sexy when the machines enslave you! [insert winky face]") 

That is not me in the picture. Anyway, in cleaning the library, I realized that we have accumulated a lot of random shit. Did you know that I have a wooden sculpture (small) of a walrus wearing a tuxedo? Neither did I. I also found out that we have more knives than most kitchens. Large knives, short knives, artistic knives, pocket knives, you name it.  If we ever need knives in the war against machines, I'm your one-stop shop. I even have an Olde Timey revolver that looks real, but is actually just a knife. The gunpowder barrel is a long needle. You know, in case you want a shish-kebab after your battle.In addition, I found a Hello, Kitty stuffed toy. Why do I have that? Because my parents have a twisted sense of humor. I'm just glad I met my wife before they gave me the stuffed toy. Otherwise, that would have been awkward. 

The room is full of random stuff like that. It's a lot like hoarders, or extreme antiquing, except that nothing is of significant financial value. There are treasured items, of course, but nothing worth billions (BILLIONS!) of dollars. 

I also learned that wool rugs shed. A lot. And those sheddings? They look like bugs. You know that feeling when you're working and you suddenly see a bug or spider? And next thing you know, you scream like a little girl and try to kill the bug with the nearest stapler? Well we now have staples all over the floor of the library. What's worse, I've inadvertently stapled the wool pieces to the floor.  Mr. Chi-City understands: 

Seriously, tens of tens of wool pieces. And I can't just pull those staples out or use a magic wipe to remove them. That would damage the carpet. I can't afford a new carpet. I have a wedding and in-laws coming to town. I need to save all the money I can, so that I can afford the amount of alcohol it will take for me to get through everything without going crazy. My liver is fucked, but my sanity will survive.

So that is the state of things. The moral of the story: If you're going to meet your father-in-law for the first time, make sure you start cleaning your shit early. Oh, and don't use a stapler to kill bugs.