Decluttering: The Konterry Method

You have it too good. You have too much. Look in a mirror and yell at yourself with your eyes. Save your breath for talking to your things.

Go to your dresser. You have  six drawers! You only need one drawer for your socks, pants, shirts, and formal wear. You will keep the other drawers to store your shame. Put your shame in there.

But first empty your drawers and closet and laundry hampers onto the bed. Apologize to all of your clothes. Especially your underthings. Beg extra forgiveness from the sock partners you have broken up. This is the first step in healing, Your life is out of balance. You don’t wear all of what you own. Some items you wear all the time–those articles of clothing are tired. They’re worn down. The ones you don’t wear are bored. They’re prisoners of your addiction. They need to be paroled.

Now go over to the mirror and see what you’ve become. You are an idiot who is talking to clothes. Apologize to yourself. The only thing you need to get rid of is your decluttering books. And also your French Women Don’t Get Fat books. Gather them all and put them on top of your clothes on top of your bed. Now roll around on them. Feel those hard corners poking into the back of your legs and the back of your back? You deserve that for buying into these fads. We know that the only thing America manufactures anymore is oppression, but that doesn’t mean that every idea that comes from overseas is automatically genius.

Okay stop rolling. Go into your kitchen and pour a drink, your back hurts.

What do you mean you’re out of alcohol? No wine? No beer?

Get in your car. Drive to Binny’s Beverage Depot. This is an emergency so there’s no need to obey traffic laws.

They have shopping carts. You’re going to need a cart. Get one and fill it with whatever you like to drink. Wine, beer, that elderflower shit. They got tons of vodkas. And tequilas in rooster bottles. Sometimes I just want to drink out of a big rooster. Or a boot. Or a skull.

Fill your cart. Take risks. Your cart isn’t full until you’re too scared to push it. Push it anyway. Any bottles that fall and shatter in the store belong to Binny. It’s a natural weeding out process. It’s the Universe rebalancing itself. Once all the loose bottles fall, you will have the right alcohol.

Go to the checkout lane and pay. Get a reward card if you don’t have one. You’ll be coming back.

Go home. Hurry. You’re ready to begin thinking about decluttering.

Open a bottle of something that doesn’t need to be chilled. Or pour something over ice. Whatever. Get the alcohol into you.

The key to decluttering is to not buy things that clutter you. Alcohol does not clutter you. Think of it as decluttering solvent. It removes those things that hold you back. It liberates your trueness. It enhances your ability to let shit go.

Alcohol is with you only a short time. From bottle, to stomach, to brain, to shitter and back to the Universe. Once the bottle is empty, you can recycle that too. It’s all temporary. It forces you to live in the now. Now you don’t need Eckhart Tolle’s books either. That German elf should go get his privates steamed with Gwynnie.

There is order with alcohol. The bottles tell you how to serve the alcohol and what temperature it needs to be kept at and where to keep it. And there’s no mystery involved. You store it in a very limited number of places: the refrigerator, the shelf, the recycling bin. Listen to the bottles.

You can dissolve your cares in alcohol. Alcohol keeps no secrets. It’s a liquid blanket of immunity from consequence.

Alcohol will draw friends to you. It will cause you to accumulate memories and laughter. Ever see someone on an episode of Hoarders trying to sort through piles of laughter? No you didn’t. Quit being contrarian.

Did you drink that drink yet?

Put the other bottles away. But not too far away. Put the wine that needs to be chilled in the refrigerator. If the refrigerator is too full, that’s ok. Everything is ok now. Just throw some crap you don’t eat into the garbage. Start with the leftovers from Cooper’s Hawk. Don’t think about the argument you had with your spouse when you were eating that meal the first time. Don’t think about how you could barely finish because you were so mad and that’s why there’s so much left. If you do think about it, just pour some alcohol on it. It’s a memory eraser. Let it flow over the memory. Everything is ok.

I just thought about something–you know how when you get cut and you pour alcohol over the cut to disinfect it? That’s another way alcohol heals you. Or maybe you’re not supposed to pour alcohol over cuts. Whatever.

Remember when you were apologizing to your clothes. It’s kinda funny now.

Oh shit, is all that stuff still on the bed? Take another drink. Ask yourself the exact same question. Less alarming now, isn’t it? Kinda like the rough edges of life are smoothed.

Go back to your bedroom. Yes, and take the bottle with you. It’s almost empty? Then grab another, along with a glass of ice. The Universe wouldn’t have given you that big cart of alcohol if it didn’t want you to have multiple bottles.

Look at your pile of clothes. Tell your clothes to fuck off! Boo FUCKING HOO, socks! You own them!! You’re the boss!! You don’t have to apologize to anyone! Not even your best friend who never has time for you! Or your uncle!

Put your empty bottle on the floor, you’ll put it in the recycling bin later. If not tonight, then definitely before work tomorrow. It doesn’t matter. What’s one more bottle? Have you seen this house? It’s a craphole. No matter. You’re working on it. You’re only one person. You’re living in the now, bitches!

Shit, you know what? Speaking of now, now would be a good time to block some assholes on Facebook. Declutter your Facebook! Where’s the iPad? Maybe it’s under all those clothes. Just shove them on the floor. Gravity will file them away. Gravity claims everything. The skin on the back of your arms hangs loose a little more every day. You got wings. But those wings don’t let you fly! Everything is holding you down. It’s bullshit.

You left your iPad in the kitchen. Shit, it’s hard to get up off the bed. Shit. You spilled a little of your drink but it make you giggle. OW! FUCK! You kicked the empty bottle you put on the floor. Why does the Universe shit all over you all the fucking time?! There’s the iPad. It’s right there next to the Binny’s receipt. We don’t want to think about that right now. You still haven’t paid that parking ticket and you haven’t had a raise in ages.

Goddamnit the battery is out of juice. Those Facebook fuckers are lucky.

Shit just grab a pen and paper and go back into the room. Write a shit list. Tomorrow, when you’re done with the NOW, you can block them and then they can see what life is like without you for a change.

OW! That fucking bottle again!

The bed is so much more comfortable without those piles of crap on it. It’s hard writing down the names of assholes without a hard surface. Cool, there are books on the floor. Grab one. Oh LOOK, it’s Spark Joy! Spark joy until this disaster of a house burns down. Hahahahaha! Apropos and shit. Start writing names. Author your roadmap away from negativity and haters. Get it all down. Haters. No room for haters. Declutter your heart. Declutter your spirit. Reorganize your outlook. Recharge your positivity. Drift away from the NOW.

When you wake up in the morning with a bad headache and a Binny’s receipt with “Alex” written on it, you’ll be one step closer to your future. Whatever that is.

Just quit buying shit.

 

 

 

4 Comments

  1. Holy crap. That was a little scary. Although, I have had days like that. But of course I don’t remember them because – empty bottle.

    • jeffandjill

      07/03/2017 at 7:24 pm

      I’m a little scary lately. I don’t know. I’m writing a post about how I’ve scared myself with my But Did You Die? commercials. And that Demonstration post. What the hell was with that? Strange days are here. Strange days indeed.

  2. You crack me up. Everything and nothing feel urgent right now. Mission accomplished.

    • jeffandjill

      07/06/2017 at 4:50 pm

      All the dude ever wanted was his rug back. And to maybe crack some people up. The sun could also crack you up if you don’t wear sunblock. But there’s no guarantee that you’ll only have daughters if you wear sonblock. Because sonblock hasn’t been invented. Unless you consider condoms. But they’re also daughter thwarters. Fuck you, socks! You’re not the boss of my boss! Where’d I put that corkscrew?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

*