I finished watching the first season of Hoarders on Netflix. Hoarders is like a train wreck. Horrible, but you can't look away. I come from a family of hoarders. My parents are hoarders. My mother's parents were both hoarders. I try really hard not to hoard. I can be messy, and there are certain things I find hard to resist. I love paper. I love shoes. I don't love putting things away. I was looking for something in the back room recently and I found two other things back there that I didn't know I had. That's bad. I didn't find what I was originally looking for. I need to clean up back there. The last episode of Hoarders featured a 7 year old hoarder. The psych gave him rules. 1. Don't drop things. 2. Everything has a home. Not dropping things is great advice. That's how things get messy. That is how things get lost. Hoarders makes me feel good because I'm not as sick as the folks on the show. Hoarders makes me sad because those people are so sick that they lose all their relationships. Hoarders makes me feel bad because I know I could be better about keeping the house clean. I can't wait for more episodes.
2 comments:
Hoarders is riveting television. Riveting! It's awful yet so intriguing.
I always feel so bad for them. And then I'd feel bad because I was sitting there watching their plight basically as a form of entertainment. And then I'd feel kind of like they were being exploited. Then I'd be all, "OMG! They found another dead cat in the clutter!" And my mind would have already moved on.
Shiny object, as Ross likes to say.
I just bought more electronics today. My closet is getting more crowded. Shhh, don't tell my wife
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