I tackled two of the drawers and found them full of hidden uselessness. I need to go through them again. I feel like a hoarder when faced with my duplicates. How many cheese slicers does a person need if they don’t entertain. I really don’t want to put things away and hide them again.
I pick something up and ask myself, “do I use it?” Often the answer is no. Yet I hear the cry, “That was my mother’s, that was my grandmother’s. That belonged to George’s mother.” Oh, what a conundrum. But as Duck said, and took too far, “I don’t have to caretake dead people’s stuff.” What a struggle.