The Piles. The Damn Piles.

I am seriously considering hiring someone to take out a few of my ‘piles’ for me.

I can’t stand it anymore. I’m working really hard at not making new piles, having time to dig through the old ones on top of that is hell on earth. Fuck you tidy people and your tidy fucking lives!!!! This pirate don’t give a shit!

Okay I really do give a shit, otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this in the first place.

This is one of those times where I’m like “hmmm…this is why I should have had children like 10 years ago”…except those kids would probably have ADHD too and be not naturally inclined to linear living.

Maybe all I need is a fire pit and a few boy scouts to cart the crap outside.

In the shrieky but true words of Kate Bush “mmmm yesssssss”.

Honestly, I don’t want to know what’s in those piles anyway. Maybe the world is better off not knowing. Maybe life will be worse if I know what’s in them. Maybe avoidance IS all it’s cracked up to be.

Note to self: add avoidance and tracking down Boy Scouts and lighter fluid to personal to-do list….


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