So, as per my diary review a few days back, my entries are often long winded and confusing. My words.

This I know. Heh. As does anyone who wades through the lengthy, verboseness of these posts.

However, I've been thinking about that. Why is this diary filled with such cluttered brain dumpage? Because it's brain dumpage. This diary is like a verbal garbage heap with you, my dear readers, the scavengers of the little treasures which are buried among the refuse. Heh.

Perhaps I should change the name of this diary to "BrainDump". Naw, just doesn't have the same ring.

I'm reminded of the dump... the garbage thing, because I would get to go with my ex every once in a while (to work) when he worked at the transfer site. In our small household, we called it The Site but really, to remove the prettified words, it was where people brought their garbage. It's where the large garbage trucks dumped their loads of refuse after having gone to your house to pick up your trash.

This is where I found out what a pack rat my ex really was. --I'm gonna have to write up an exam for prospective mates including the question "Have you ever been eager to look through other people's trash in order to find the 'good' stuff that you could then claim?" Heh. I really should do that some day. --

*yanks the locomotive heading her train of thought back onto the original tracks*

Regardless, the connection I wish to make here:

When I would accompany my ex to work for a day, I would get to see the trucks coming in and dropping off a load of trash. Then, it was the employees' responsibility to go through the trash and remove certain things. They had to pull out all the electronics and things like batteries, etc.

Regardless, while the guys were sorting the assembled trash, they would ocassionally find various "interesting" items. You know, things that were still good, but the previous owners didn't want them anymore, and they didn't have the ability or want to expend the effort to recycle the items.

Duncan used to love going through the trash for that exact reason. He found many, many, many things. Blankets, trinkets, tools (yes, mostly broken) lawn mowers, recliners.

*nods* I kid you not. Since he worked at the Transfer Site, when people had appliances they didn't want anymore, or furnishings they didn't want anymore... they brought them up to the transfer site. Trust me, I was not thrilled with the amount of ....... stuff that found its way into our apartment.

Regardless (big time) The correlation is that it seems this diary has become the transfer site of my thoughts, ideas and memories. Therefore, you have become the people who get to sort through the crap which gets dumped here and find those things which have value to you.

Because of this, and the review, and because I don't want anyone picking through my trash and taking it home as their treasure because that just puts a really nasty picture in my mind and I won't even go there... ever.

Erm, anyway, because of the review and understanding that these entries are far too scattered and divergent, I am going to attempt at least one entry a week.... erm, bi-weekly would be better... where the entry is clearly thought out and easy to follow without the bizarre twists and turns of a Rocky Mountain switchback fire trail.

Heh.

Self discipline is good. When it's someone else's. *grins*

Anyway, Yes, I'm going to attempt to bring more order and finesse to these brain-spewages. Dunno if that's gonna work, but I'm gonna try.

Obviously, this entry was NOT one of the new-and-improved variety.