Graham appears to have lost the key to the Prius, and he swears it's somewhere in the mud room. So I have been going through the mud room looking for it.
I don't know when the whole mud room concept bubbled up into consciousness and became a thing that we all must have, but it did happen, and we have one.* It is, to pull back one of the greatest hit words of era of literary theory, very much a liminal space -- that is, a threshold -- designed for taking things off, and putting them down, before continuing on. Conceptually, it's first and foremost about getting things off while heading into the house.
In our case, it has evolved or devolved, depending on how you view it, into the place where things slow down before heading out of the house. For example, paper and plastic bags headed either to the thrift store or to the grocery store to be recycled. And other stuff, similarly headed out for its next, new life.
It is very easy for me to get judgmental about this kind of thing. In my mind, I am very much the get things done, drive things through to completion kind of guy. One of the things that sometimes drives me crazy about other people (and I won't name names here) is their tendency to let things sit and not finish them up.
Excavating the mud room looking for the Prius key is kind of driving home the point that I am deluding myself. Things I have found that are on my plate include:
- A bag of tennis balls that came with the hamper I bought at least 7 years ago so I could work on my tennis serve. I never have. The balls suck. I should throw them away.
- An old headset that went with some cell phone. It sucks. I did just throw it away.
- A biker-type bag for Tata Consulting Services that I picked up at some conference. It is ugly, and I have never used it. Should go to thrift store.
- A bookmark from a used book store in Durham which was new within the last year or two. I stuck it in a book.
- A bike bottle holder, which I undoubtedly bought to put on some bike. I put it in the cubbard above the washing machine