In order to celebrate that I finally have my house to myself and I don’t have to worry about all that crap anymore, I decided to do a serious purge diet and I’m happy to say I lost over 700 lbs. in a single day! 700 lbs. of junk, that is.
That’s right. I went room to room to room. I delved into places that haven’t seen human eyes in years. I pushed aside sometimes inches of dust in secret corners. I filled 50 gallon bag after 50 gallon bag until it was all done. And all beautiful. And all mine and Noah’s to live in.
There was an awful lot of random crap that I found to throw out or give to charity. Old bed sheets from my, get this, college days; ZIP disks (remember those?); more than 20 bottles of shampoo or conditioner (that were all partially used dating back as far as eight years ago); multiple bottles of cologne I’ve been holding onto for years even though I really don’t like their scents (the ones I chucked were all gifts, sorry if one was from you!); old watches; shirts that haven’t left the back of my closet for years; multiple pairs of old ratty shoes; tons of towels; tons of books that were gifts but I never even cracked open (please don’t give me books as gifts, I’ll smile and give you a big thank you, but then I’ll most likely shelf it!); old supplements and vitamins; nasty old cleaning supplies; etc., etc.
The list really does go on and on. I filled up seven 50 gallon garbage sacks and another load for the D.I. (Utah’s version of the Salvation Army). I cleaned and scrubbed until my fingers were worn down to nubs. And what’s amazing, is that I am really not a pack rat. I don’t hold onto very many things sentimentally. But, it has all had its own way of culminating and hiding over the years. Like a vicious parasite slowly eating the insides of its host, not causing enough damage for the host to ever realize it, until it’s too late, and BAM! Perhaps the nastiest thing I cleaned was the vacuum roller bar thingie (sorry, I have no idea what its actual name is). Actually, I wouldn’t call it cleaning it, I’d call it performing emergency surgery. I got out my sharpest camping knife and got to work cutting through the forest of hair and string. It was really bad. When I was done, I had more hair and string balled up than when I de-shed my dog. And believe me, that’s a lot.
And now I can get back to enjoying life with Noah and relaxing. I can get back to telling three-year-old poop jokes and not worrying about what is waiting around the corner. I can get back to the bachelor life of Peanut Butter M&Ms and Wheat Thins. I can get back to feeling at home in my home, which is always a good feeling.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing