Tidying Up with Marie Kondo has been lulling us to sleep each night — a guided bedtime meditation led by a calmer Monica Geller. It is an adorable and ridiculous show about first world problems like having too many possessions and all-world problems like women doing the majority of household management and people clinging to things and ideas that do not Spark Joy™.
We brought four suitcases of possessions to Italy, so there is very little KonMari-ing to be done in our current apartment. Aside from not wanting to ship things that are worth less than the postage, we also have very little faith in Italian delivery services. Exhibits A, B, C and D:
A) I have yet to receive an invite to a dinner party that I attended on Dec. 28, 2018
B) We are still waiting on my mother’s Christmas card to arrive from the U.S.
C) An Italian man told me that he took a train from Milan to Florence last month to hand deliver an application because he didn’t trust the Posta to get it there on time
D) Alberto called the Posta to report that we aren’t receiving mail and the employee on the phone replied, “Yeah, I have problems sometimes, too.” Can I file a complaint? “Ok…” What do you need from me? My name? “Yeah…” And my address? “Sure…” Is there a way I can track this complaint? “No.”
So, although we have little to tidy here, watching the show is an opportunity to judge others (How do you go $10,000 into credit card debt on sneakers?), feel good about yourself (The Goodwill of Des Moines and anonymous elevator lobby visitors claimed most of our possessions), and, finally, learn how to create a visual candy shop with your socks and underwear.
Another thing that KonMari’d the crap out of our in-transit household — while also smothering the joy of receiving $10 — was Facebook Marketplace. Behold, some of my favorite rage-sparking characters who graciously helped us prepare for the move to Milan.
Product: Memo board Price: $5 (AKA Why the hell did I even bother?)
Julie: My📱gave out on me! So Sorry. Still avail? Called Cricket 3x’s!!! Finally Software update. Ugh.
Worked in a metal Bldg today too! Yikes
What’s ur ph # please just in case?
Me: Sorry I don’t give out my number but I’ll be available through messenger
Me: Are you still planning on coming?
Julie: Here. So Sorry! Cldn’t find u on my ph. Outside blue Toyota Corolla across St So of Pkg Garage. Plz come out. Have 2 move now
📱 almost dead
Me: Ok coming. Sorry you didn’t say when you were coming so wasn’t watching phone. Are you still here? I was outside but didn’t see you.
Julie: Can’t drive&text. Ph #’s help
Me: I’m sorry it didn’t work out and for the trouble of coming here
Julie: Thank u. I 4give u
[Note: Facebook messages here are condensed but core content unaltered. She really does 4give me.]
Product: Storage cart Price: $15
Sarah: How tall is this? [Dimensions already noted in the listing]
A different buyer is on their way, and an automated message soon notifies Sarah that the listing is sold.
Sarah: Wow! Didn’t even answer.
Me: I had 80 messages, sorry. And someone just bought it. Have a nice weekend.
Sarah: [Silence. Hopefully thinking about being a more joyful person.]
Product: TV stand Price: $30
Maritoña: I be little late but I on my I gets I will be there in 20 minutes
I here, but I don’t know if it’s the right place.
Me: I’ll come downstairs now.
Maritoña: In front of main entrance.
Me [Carrying a TV stand around downtown Des Moines. Stumbling from corner to corner, unshowered in my Minnesota Gopher sweatpants]: I don’t see you. I’m outside now.
Maritoña: I on the building 401 in the back parking lot.
Me: 804 not 401.
Maritoña: Ok I go out again.
Me: Are you in downtown or East Village? Can you send me your location?
Silence. I continue wandering the streets, switching arms periodically as my muscles and dignity moan. A homeless man stops me and asks if I need help.
Maritoña suddenly appears; her F150 truck is too big to successfully parallel park so she leaves it in the middle of the street. She walks over to me on the sidewalk.
Maritoña, in the flesh: It looked bigger in the picture. Would you take $20?
Are you freaking kidding me, Mari? I bend at the knees (important) and hoist the TV stand back on my hip, wondering if I can squeeze through the revolving doors or if have to go back to the side entrance and endure the homeless man’s pitying gaze once again.
Alisa, Angie, Ashlee, Lisa, Jodi of West Des Moines
Product: Something IKEA Price: $10-50
Oh! You live downtown?! I do not drive downtown. PASS.