It's Day 29 of The Challenge. And it's going, well, OK.
The Challenge began at the start of the year, and was inspired by an acquaintance who vowed to get rid of one thing she owned, 365 days in a row. You know, in the interests of purging. Or a non-materialistic life. Or whatever. It sounded good to me.
So I took it on. "I'm getting rid of the cutting board today," I told anyone who'd listen.
The husband heard me. "Why?" he asked. "And what are you going to do with it?" "It's The Challenge," I replied. "But quite frankly, I don't know what to do with it. I don't want to throw it out, since there would be landfill issues. I can't give it away because it's all marked up. It's not made of plastic or paper, so it can't go to recycling. And I can't burn it because that might release toxins into the atmosphere."
I decided to keep the cutting board.
I eyeballed a stack of CDs. This, quite frankly, was a natural one, since we no longer own a CD player, and since I tend not to listen to Johnny Cash as much as I once did.
"I think I'll give them to goodwill," I informed the husband.
"Really?" he asked. "Now maybe I haven't been paying attention, but I thought they were more interested in other things. Like coats, say."
I thought about it. I decided he was right.
I moved on to other things. One T-shirt. Two bath mats. Three coffee mugs. And four paperbacks.
It was going OK until I realized there was a white sale at one of the department stores and that we needed sheets. And towels. And wash cloths.
Nine things out. Eight things in.
"What a minute," said the husband. "Isn't the idea of The Challenge to reduce the number of things you own?" "I know," I said. "But we really needed sheets and these were such a deal.
Anyway, you're not helping the cause. Didn't you just buy some new socks and shoes the other day?" He stared at me for a long moment.
"I need socks. And shoes," he said. "Besides. It's YOUR Challenge."
Fair enough, I guess. And he's right: Even if I'm true to The Challenge, I'll never reduce the overall number of belongings if I continue to go to white sales. Or craft markets. Or department stores. "Maybe," I said, "I'll change the rules of The Challenge and get rid of two things every day. That would give me some leeway in case we need more sheets."
The husband nodded, and smiled.
Tomorrow is Day 30, and I'm going amp up the game. I'm throwing out a pair of socks.
That's not one item. That's two.
