Strongly Worded Letters

Dear Hoarders,
You sure know how to put the fear of God into a person.

I confess: I have a small mountain of clothes on my bedroom floor. (They don’t fit in my closet.) And I may have been a bit lazy about taking out the recycling. (It’s overflowing a little bit. Sue me.)

Thanks to your fine TV show, though, I can see where this road leads. It’s not pretty.

One day you’re clinging to your 7th grade soccer jersey for no good reason, and the next, you’re pooping in a plastic bag and throwing it in the hall closet… Providing that you still have access to the hall closet through a decade’s worth of newspapers.

Some might say that your show exploits people who are suffering from a mental disorder. That point deserves careful consideration, but I’ll leave it to others to convey their outrage. I’m writing to express my thanks.

You’re the Ghost of Christmas Future to my Scrooge… Clean out my closet? Bah Humbug! (Although it is blessedly feces free…)

But your show is not just a friendly warning, it’s a strange kind of self-esteem booster. Suddenly, I’m not feeling so bad about the inch of dust collecting on my bookcase or my sink full of dishes.

I freely admit that no one wants to eat off my kitchen floor–unless they’ve lost a bet or something. But thanks to your fine TV show, I’m looking like Housekeeper of the Year. After all, you can see my kitchen floor, so that’s a win.

So let’s make a deal. I promise to throw out the jeans I haven’t worn since 2003, and you continue making a show that makes me look good by comparison.

Thanks a million.

Sincerely,
RJ