Week One: Surrendering to the process is difficult. I’ve decided to wholly commit to shedding the past to embrace the present. I heard there was a textile donation area at the farmer’s market near my apartment, so I dropped off a bag of pants that either don’t fit or are ripped at the crotch. Funny how they always rip in the same place. Must be a lack of stretch in the fabric blend. It felt good to donate to something that wasn’t the land fill. In the coming week I plan on finding more things to get rid of. I did manage to gather up Frank’s clothes and put them in a bag.
Week Two: I made a pile of items in the foyer for dispatching. It included four mugs I never used, two chipped water glasses, a cracked plate, the wooden cutting board that I suspect keeps making me sick, a torn bicycle tube, a set of Russian nesting dolls, four empty planters, a broken elephant lamp, and three sets of headphones with only one working side. A welcome effect of this process has been a tidier apartment. It’s easier to breathe. A giddiness came over me when I handed the box to the lady in donations. I decided to keep Frank’s clothes for now, but I did move the bag out of the bedroom.
Week Three: I finally tackled the bedside table and closet. It was mostly empty pill bottles spilling out of both, which I’m unsure if I can recycle. I read that improper recycling is an epidemic that slows the system down. Decided to take a chance and put the bottles out with the rest on recycle day. I also set outside a folding table, five empty picture frames of anomalous size, a comforter, and two step stools. Everything was gone by the evening.
Week Four: Went through my closet and got rid of all clothes except two outfits. It took a few trips to the farmer’s market. Without the clothes I had no need to keep the dresser, so I put that outside to be taken along with a clothing rack I had kept coats on. The simplicity of choice liberated me such that I also took the art off the walls and set them on the sidewalk. I feel I must be on the right path and things will only improve from here.
Week Five: I found a discussion board on the internet for my neighborhood called “Buy Nothing” and listed some items. A guy called Lance came over and happily took the living room furniture. I rolled up the rug and set it outside with a note that said “bed bug free.” It was gone within an hour. The kitchen appliances were spread between three neighbors from the discussion board and the Casio keyboard I never played went to the teenager in the apartment above mine. I put a hook on the wall in the foyer and hung Frank’s clothes bag on it.
Week Six: The hardest thing so far was moving the two bookshelves to the sidewalk. The forecast eschewed rain for a few days, so it seemed like the right moment to offer up the books. The locals apparently love classic fiction and cookbooks as they were all gone by evening. The bookshelves themselves were gone by morning. I felt emptied but inspired by the end of it.
Week Seven: A couple of the doors of the kitchen cabinets had fallen off a few months back, but I never did call someone to fix them. The hinges were like nothing I’d ever seen and made fixing them myself impossible. They fit in my garbage bags, so I set them out on the night before pickup. When I came back inside I took a flathead screwdriver to the rest of the doors and put them outside also. The open cabinets seemed to leer at me, so I spent the night carefully deconstructing them with a hammer. I live on a block with many grocery stores, vegetable stands, and bodegas, so I was able to time the loud hits of the hammer with the diesel trucks making deliveries or picking up recycle and garbage. I worried about the weight of the bags and whether they would be collected, but it ended up being no problem. I put my mattress in the foyer underneath Frank’s clothes bag as I have plans for the bedroom.
Week Eight: I spent some time knocking on the walls to figure out if they were loadbearing. I soon realized that I didn’t have the experience to tell, so I began with the walls that separated the rooms using a crowbar I found downstairs in a utility closet. My apartment is a railroad, so it became one large room. It was best to work during the day. The bustle of the street hid the noise well. I haven’t heard any complaints. I liberated some dusty contractor bags that were in the basement near the washer and dryer. They were used for the drywall and wood framing. I have two nights of garbage pickup per week. I staggered how many bags I put out each night so they didn’t attract attention. I placed my mattress in a sealed plastic bag and wrestled it to the curb. I have been sleeping on the floor in the foyer.
Week Nine: The first floorboard was the hardest to pry off. I used the claw end of my hammer. Each subsequent board was easier than the last. I left a winding route of flooring so I can get around and a six-foot-by-three-foot space like an island for sleeping. I didn’t need the backup set of clothes, so I donated them. I also put out my primary set of clothes on the sidewalk late at night. The openness of the apartment seems conducive to clearing my head. I have been sitting under Frank’s bag considering next steps.
Jonathan Daniel Gardner is originally from Asheville, North Carolina and currently lives and writes in Brooklyn, New York. He recently finished a degree from The New School’s undergraduate Creative Writing program and works at a cocktail bar. https://www.instagram.com/jonathandanielgardner/
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