The little woman and I don't much speak to each other anymore. It's not that we have nothing to say, though I am a man of few words. It's more that we don't see each other anymore. It's not that we're more frequently separated lately from one another. It's more that we can hardly view each other. You see, every room in our house is now piled high with stuff. By "high" I mean at least six feet---and because I'm six feet tall and she's less than that---well, you get the picture. By "stuff" I mean things I myself, not she, have collected and moved to Seine and continue to collect. I think I'm a collector. I have piles and stacks of books, notebooks, old grading books, old textbooks, newspapers, magazines, journals, posters, boxes of videos, etc., dating from today to about ten years back.
Jonka is calling the tv show, "Buried Alive: Hoarders," as I speak.
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