Last night while I was washing out a large container of Talenti Tahitian Vanilla ice cream – yes I buy large stop judging – a thought popped into my head that proved I am becoming my mother. Well maybe not MY mother, but someone’s mother. I am becoming a woman who wants to save things to put other things in. Yes, there I was rinsing out this large plastic jar and thought – I should save this. It’ll be good for dog biscuits, or screws, or q-tips, or maybe some jelly beans, or how about some other pile of shit I have in my house that I don’t need. By the way – I’ll never be that woman who has glistening colorful jars filled with candy on my counter for people to just pick a piece or two while they’re in my house because I would eat all of the candy every night and have to replenish it every morning and even I don’t have that kind of fuck you money. But, while washing my Talenti container I realized that there comes a certain time in your life where you actually see everything as something that needs to be kept – which we all know thanks to A&E is one thought shy of becoming a hoarder who gets buried alive by a six foot stack of coupons they’ve secretly been cutting but no one knows about because they haven’t been to visit their mother in like two or three – decades. Nice work guys. “I guess I haven’t been here for awhile because I had no idea my Mom was keeping all of her dead cats.” I didn’t keep the container of ice cream but I really wanted to. I’m starting to fight this urge a lot lately. Every time I have to throw out a Ziploc bag I’ve used once – I think – I should rinse this and use it again – and then I don’t. I’m sure this is why America is dying under a pile of garbage. I’m sure it’s all my fault. I’m killing the country. But who knows – at the rate I’m going I’ll probably start smoothing out pieces of tin foil and storing those somewhere – probably inside some other thing I’ve saved – like an old box I find on the street or pull out of the neighbors garbage can as if they’ve thrown away a perfectly good box and they’re idiots and look how amazing I am to save this from the trash and one persons trash is another persons treasure and by the way that expression is such a pile of shit because trash is trash and you may rescue it from someone else’s pile but about a year after you’ve painstakingly turned it into something else you too will toss it because it’s garbage and you just want something new and shiny and that’s what this is all about at the end of the day anyway isn’t it – wanting something new and shiny? Isn’t that what we all want? Isn’t that why the divorce rate is so high in this country? I do love the fact that all those people who thought I was a loser for not getting married twenty five years ago now think I’m a genius because they’re all divorced and I still have all of my shit. They look at me sheepishly, head hanging, and whisper “you were right.” “I’m sorry what? I can’t hear you.” “YOU WERE RIGHT!” Finally society has backed the fuck off of me on that subject. They still think I’m dead inside because I didn’t have kids but all it’s going to take for them to realize I’m the smarty pants in that situation is one kid to murder one parent in their sleep and I’ll be off the hook on that one too. Until then, I’ll be in my kitchen rinsing out my paper towels to be used again. They’re very durable these days. Unlike most relationships.