Hypothetical Inferno, Hypothetical Escape

I used to have a real clutter problem. I think most teachers do. We suffer from this pervasive idea that we can use this <insert random thing here> later. I blame Pinterest. And the fact that most teachers buy their own supplies, so we become glue-gunning magpies, collecting all sorts of shiny things to use later. Out of necessity, I got a little better at decrapification when I moved from Pennsylvania to Florida, but stuff still piles up. For no reason. At all. Except that I don’t throw it away. Because I might use it later. Oh wait, there is a reason…

So when prompted to decide what 5 items I’d take with me if my apartment caught fire, and everyone I love was out and safe, I was at a loss to come up with anything. I have a lot of stuff. Like a lot. But in the end, I don’t particularly need any of it. It’s stuff. That can be replaced. But probably shouldn’t be. Because it’s non-essential crap. So, yeah, I guess I’d leave everything behind.

We don’t need no water, let the m*f*r burn.


I have enough insurance to cover my laptop and a small professional wardrobe, so I can continue to do my job. All the important documents are in a fire safe, so leave those to do their thing. I mean, this is the existential purpose of a fire safe, right? So I wouldn’t deny its moment in the sun (blaze?). Everything else is non-essential. (See previous post re: boxes of spray paint and general state of simply having too much stuff.) Sure, I’d mourn the loss of my books, pictures, memory foam pillow, etc. But in the end, it’s just stuff. And most of it is crap anyway. So let it burn.

world burn

Wait. I lied. I’d take my cell phone. My mom would drive to Florida and kick my butt if she didn’t have a way to get in touch with me. And I don’t actually know anybody’s phone number. So yeah. Cell phone, then flee the inferno.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Burning Down the House.”