I did something the other night that I've done only three times before in my life, mainly because I have a phobia associated with it.
I’m
talking about cleaning out the junk drawer (also known as the catch-all drawer)
in the kitchen.
My
phobia stems from the fact that during my past junk-drawer explorations, I have
found some pretty frightening things, like the sticky lint-roller that had so
many paper scraps, threads, thumbtacks, pieces of wire and buttons adhered to
it, it resembled some sort of Medieval torture device.
This
time, however, the drawer was more puzzling than frightening. Too often, I
found myself scratching my head and muttering, “What the heck is this?” or “Why
on earth did I keep this?”
For
example, I found a loose CD that had so many scratches on it, it looked as if a
cat had attacked it. And when I put it into my CD player so I could hear what
was on it, it skipped so much, it sounded like the guy who was singing was
being jabbed with a cattle prod.
I
also found a key ring with about 10 keys on it. I knew in an instant they
weren’t my keys because I never use key rings.
I keep my keys loose so I can shove them into my pocket, my change
purse, even into my shoe…which probably is why I lose about 200 keys a
year. I’ve had so many replacement keys
made, the minute the guys at the local hardware store see me walk in, they head
straight for the key-making machine.
Then
there were four pairs of eyeglasses in such hideous styles, I couldn’t believe
I ever wore them. One pair had
bright-pink tinted lenses that were so huge, when I tried them on, the only
thing that showed was my chin. Another
pair looked like something Granny Clampett wore on The Beverly Hillbillies.
I
leafed through a stack of coupons that were so old, they included 25 cents off
a typewriter ribbon and 50 cents off Purina cat chow. The last time I owned a
cat, I was wearing a mini skirt and go-go boots.
There
was a tube of cement that had leaked and was permanently attached to a deck of
playing cards that had pictures of U.S. presidents on the backs. But it really
didn’t matter because there were only 44 cards in the deck anyway.
I
found countless doodads and doohickeys my husband had put in there at some
point. He had a habit of ordering every tool and gadget advertised on TV. Then
when one would arrive, he’d put it away and say, “This will come in handy
someday.” But “someday” never arrived for the majority of his stuff.
I
guess that’s because there never arose an occasion when he needed a hammer onto
which nails magnetically attached themselves, or a battery-operated laser tool
that projected a straight line on the wall for accurate picture hanging.
I
remember the time I wanted to toss out a package of house fuses I found in the
drawer. I made the mistake of asking my husband if it was okay.
Had
I told him I’d just found a stack of 100-dollar bills I wanted to shove into
the paper shredder, he couldn’t have looked more appalled (note: if I ever
really did find a stack of 100-dollar bills in a drawer, it would mean I was in
someone else’s house).
“No!
Don’t throw out those fuses!” he’d said. “You never know when they might come
in handy!”
“But
we haven’t used fuses since back in the 1970s when we lived in the mobile
home! And we have circuit breakers
now.”
“They’re
still brand new and in the package,” he’d argued. “You should never toss out
anything that’s new, no matter what it is.”
“Then
I should keep this still-sealed pack of cigarettes I found tucked in the back
of the drawer?” I asked.
My
husband had quit smoking about 10 years earlier.
“Darn!”
I heard him mutter under his breath. “So that’s where I hid them!”
But
with the most recent cleaning of the junk drawer, I felt less obligated to keep
things, even if they were new, now that my husband is gone. So I tossed out an assortment of door
hinges, screws, nuts, bolts and cabinet pulls.
With
my luck, one day something in the house will break down and the repairman will
say, “You’re out of luck. It needs a Rickenhoffer size .01 screw that isn’t
made any more – so you’re going to have to buy a whole new (insert any
expensive appliance here).”
And
the screw will just happen to be one of the ones I just trashed.
I
have to confess I also found a few TV-advertised gadgets I’d thought were
must-haves back when I bought them, like the plastic bottle-tops that snapped
onto soda cans, so you could turn soda cans into bottles and thus, screw a cap
onto them to prevent de-fizzing.
The
only problem with them, I discovered, was you first had to open the can before
snapping the bottle top onto it. Otherwise, once the top was in place, you’d
have no way to open the can. So I opened the can and then tried to snap the
bottle top onto it, which, I soon discovered, took near-Herculean strength. I
ended up squeezing the can too hard and causing a geyser of soda to spew into
the air.
Which
explains why the drawer has five of the six bottle toppers still in their
package stuffed in there.
I
did manage to get rid of quite a bit of clutter in the drawer, so I feel better
about it now. Although, there probably still are a few things in there I should
have tossed out.
But
heck, I never know when I might need a dozen dried-up rubber gaskets or a
headband that has a peace symbol and, “Make love, not war!” on it.
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