No matter who you are. No matter what it is.
If you’ve never lived in New York City, you probably don’t realize how small most apartments here are. I dearly love my little home, but it’s very cozy, and I share it with two dozen works of art, several hundred books, and three thousand CDs. As of this week, I’ve also been sharing it with a month’s worth of accumulated snail mail. I took out ten garbage bags of trash yesterday, and I’m about to haul another four bags downstairs (I live on the third floor, which is quite a trip for a heart patient). My shelves are full. My drawers are full. My closets are full. Hence this desperate plea. From here on out it’s a zero-sum game: I can’t keep anything new without throwing away something old.
To be more specific:
– If you send me a CD without asking first, I won’t listen to it.
– If you send me a book without asking first, I won’t read it.
– If you send me unsolicited press releases, I’ll toss them in the nearest wastebasket.
Forgive me for being so blunt, but I simply can’t cope anymore. I know you’ll understand.