TJ MAXX Resuseable Bags - Poor Mans TUMI

It is kind of funny what you don’t want to think about, but think about it all the same. In the past couple

of years, or lets say about a decade give or take, I have moved probably 10 times. Some were of my

doing and some of where my doing that I did not know of until it was happening. As they say people

plan as G-d laughs.

If I never see a TJ Maxx reusable shopping bag again for the rest of my life, it would be a mitzvah that I

would have though my dad Homer had orchestrated from up above. That was my packing containers I

guess you could say when we went our separate ways all the times and instances actually, good ole

Maxx.

Funny thing is after I got done with my all my laundry I said the following to myself…..

I will be good as a month or longer in the ole rental unit. From this sentiment I felt some sort of calm, so

weird, no reason, no rhyme, no happenstance that would be possible now. It is too cold and I am too old

at night. Maybe I said it because it was comforting and not because I was thinking of the reason why

and when and completely question the exact reason that caused that statement. Basically like Gloria

Gaynor song “I will survive.” One way or another, it will always be my MO.

I found the bags to particularly cumbersome, but I am glad that I had them. Hell, when my ex wife and

myself went splits, she used garbage bags. I was like really garbage bags, and her response, that is all I

had at the time. Sure it wasnot, you were just pouring salt in the wounds and making everything as

difficult and painful as humanly possible and then some.

I had a neighbor over and I still have not gotten most of my furniture out of storage and he was like you

have so much room. Yes I do, I have a small table two chairs my recliner that I have had ever since I was

not longer with my beshevret, (Yiddish for forever or something) and I have my standup desk.

I have no real desire to get all of that out and attempt to recreate another more live able space. Hell I

slept on the floor for 2 weeks or longer. I need dishes, plates, bowls, and have much of what I need in

storage. But hey it is a former Trap House that was used to cook and sell meth among other things, it

does not really have the cabinets for food and dishes and the like.

I am really over all of it. I go look for a microwave and I am like, there I am again, taking in 48% Sodium

Meals and you have to more than that to fill you up in all reality. So I am like maybe I will get a grill,

then I am like, screw it I will have my protein drink and pb sandwich and I am good to go. Almost

anything and everything I can recall some event, most of the times I was experiencing one drama or

another, and I can tell you story of exactly what.

But, who cares, why does the memories of the most trying times leave you the least and the best times

are hard to remember when it all goes to shit. I guess it is because pain, struggle, and frustration are

more impressed in our neuronic synopsases then we really want to come to grips with. I open up the

storage unit and I see, unfortunately mostly failure. I mean I am still here, and I did live there for a spell

again, but give me 2 hours at the most because it all comes back in droves.

Yeah, I could have the place with my furniture now, but I don’t have a real reason and or desire to try to

recreate what I have recreated and unfortunately had to destruct so many, many times in the past.

There are no items that take the place of what was and that is what is the cold hard truth. It does not

matter right, wrong, up, down, yes and or no, my address is just a place lay my head down and where I

come and go.

My place now is a metaphor for my life. Empty open and wanting for something that I don’t know what

that is and how it might or might not come to me. Empty, that really is my ‘bottom-line’ of total life

experience as of so far.

My place has potential, as I do, as we all do of course, but I am tired of trying to do what I have tried and

failed to do so many times. Put yourself out there, start dating and meet people. Really, I am not

exactly feeling that right now. As my shrink used to say “Kevin it is like you are effing over it because

you are effing over it.”

Then he called me persistent as my main attribute in his eyes. How can someone be both over it

because they over it and persistent. Maybe he meant pessimistic mixed with pragmatism and dumb

stubbornness that does not know what they truly want and that is truly the reason of their lives on

never ending search looking for whatever they really desire.