I need my stuff

Suzie-Q does not often venture into the Bunker.  For when she does, I have a little stool with a cushion sitting over near the door.  When I worked from home, at a real job as opposed to what I do now, she would pop in for a visit.  We’d talk a little and share a snack while she looked around.   She always concluded that I have too much junk.  She’d take a look at any of the number of plastic milk crates I have filled with coax, Ethernet cables, stray USB cables, wire of unknown sources, and orphaned remote control units and that is just the stuff you can see at the top level and ask why I didn’t get rid of that junk.  I told her someday I may need that stuff.  And that goes for all of my crates full of stuff, which I need because all of the file cabinets are also full of stuff I might need – someday.

Then she’d look at my work area and ask how I was able to get anything done as my desktop was completely covered.  I need all of this stuff to do my work I’d proclaim.  Besides, the important stuff is sitting on servers miles from here and only a mouse click or two dozen away.  This is also why I have my feet resting on a back up uninterrupted power supply for when the juice flickers off as it is known to do here in the hills.  I convinced her that what I really needed was more desktop space and she needed to allow me to add a new section to the built in desk.

With visions of saw dust and power tools littering the visible portion of floor there was a palm to the forehead, rolling eyes and an aye-goo. You men blessed with a Korean bride will understand that expression.  For others, think of Hooah! It can mean just about anything from total agreement to eye rolling exasperation.  Suffice it to say she was not expressing agreement.  We finally compromised on one of those Chinese manufactured glass computer tables.  I got it assembled, finally, and placed it.  It is now completely covered with stuff I may need someday  including an  EMP proof Royal manual typewriter and my 1970’s vintage solid state radio (not EMP proof) and there are at least two milk crates sitting beneath it along with a couple of plastic containers of stuff that won’t fit into the file cabinets.

When Suzie-Q came back she was not pleased.  She told me she was under the impression that I was going to clean the dumpster.  I reminded her that it was the bunker not the dumpster and I thought it was looking rather spiffy.  She concluded that all I did was relocate my junk.  With my arms crossed and smiling, I told her it was an old Army trick.  This time it was aye-goo you’re crazy.  She told me that soon there would be no room to sit.  I agreed and moved her stool out into the hallway. Yes, that was a bad idea.  On the return, it bounced off my leg and that shiny glass table.  I was apologizing profusely when the cushion hit me in the head.  Good thing she threw the stool first.

To calm the waters, I decided I needed to take her to lunch.  When we went into the garage, she looked around and told me I needed to get rid of some junk saying there was barely room for the car.  Before I suggested that we could buy one of those teeny tiny smart cars, I agreed with her assessment that some of the junk needed to go.  But first, I told her, I need to put in some more shelves.

© 2017 J. D. Pendry

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