Table Topic Tuesday. 6/10.

This Table Topic gets a little personal.

6.11

The real question is: What will I admit that I hoard?

I hoard emails. I knew it was bad, but it might be time for an intervention.

work email count
work email count

 

personal email count
personal email count

Did I just lose a few friends?

The next confession is just as embarrassing and not at all surprising. Most families have a junk drawer, right? That catch-all collector where you can stash all the stuff. We have one, too. But we also have a Disney junk drawer. You read that right. But calling it “junk” is a little harsh. We have a drawer where we keep the sorcery cards, old room keys, last year’s passholder guide and unused fast passes (which are now collectors’ items). Shameless.

 

Disney Digression
Disney Digression

 

I participate in normal hoarding, too. Take a peek in my office. I’ve held on to hundreds thousands of pieces of paper. Those scribbles are precious, y’all. And I’m partial to purple pens and pretty notebooks.

pens

 

notebooks

Let me get out of the hot seat and give my friends a chance to out themselves.

 

Javi says:

Come in to the merry wonders of my mind where we’ve got shame of all kinds. In my brain I horde a veritable wonderland of shame! I produce embarrassment like a tragic Wonka Factory, and the shame business is a-booming. We’ve got all types of shame to choose from. Try out our Chronic Shame – the kind that bubbles up at 3 am to remind you of what you should have said to that one time to that one person when you were six. Timed Shame, packaged neatly in the form of a sad trombone noise that plays whenever you take your shirt off. And, Shame Bursts that shout across the recesses of your soul, championing your behavior with encouraging phrases like “congratulations on taking down that sleeve of Oreos like a wood chipper! Next time let’s charge the neighborhood children a nickel to see the amazing fatso huff an uncooked cinnamon bun roll from the cardboard tube!” Get in line to ride the various shame attractions. Slide down the dizzying Shame Spiral. Brave a long stare into the Pit of Shame. Climb the treacherous Mountain of Shame. And, stroll down the Walk of Shame lined with plenty of cringe worthy moments to reflect on like Every Second of High School, The Time You Butt-Dialed Your Boss While Singing Spandau Ballet In the Car, Every Time You’ve Tried to Ask a Girl Out, and soooo many more. Yes, if you’re looking for embarrassment, shame, or just a moment that feels like a train wreck happening in slow motion, you’ve come to the right place my friend. When it comes to disappointment, we don’t disappoint. We’ve got shame and we’ve got it in droves. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a shirt that needs tucking into underwear.

 

Lindsay says:

I used to have a problem letting go of things. Like when I graduated high school, but refused to join the notebook burning party with my classmates. What happens if I need those Trig worksheets someday?

I held on to letters from friends from gymnastics camp from the fourth grade. Sentimental value.

Pancake sneakers and racing flats with no miles left on them were shoved under my bed and wedged at the top of my closet. Some of my best runs and races were in those babies; every pair has a story.

Stationery. Oh, beautiful stationery. Everywhere I go I pick up a new package. The writer’s disease.

Blue ribbons and yellow ribbons and participant ribbons from Estling Lake Field Events. My home away from home, where I found and fueled my love of sport.

I’ve stopped collecting as much over the years because, well, my parents’ garage is running out of room, and my sweet parents are running out of patience.

Let’s hear it! What do you hoard?

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2 thoughts on “Table Topic Tuesday. 6/10.

  1. This will come as no surprise to those who know me, and this is so embarrassing, but I hoard tubes of cream and medicine. An eye infection from 1998? I may need that ointment one day. Bronchitis in 2009? I may need that Tylenol with Codeine. Kids with long ago remedied Excema? I may need that 2.0 prescription strength Cortisone when I’m 63 and have an itchy elbow. #sigh

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