Mental Illness Is A PITA

Recently one of the Freecycle groups I belong to allowed one day for people to be able to post a Christmas wish list, because there had been so many sending in posts begging for presents for their kids or whatever.
(People are stupid and can't seem to grasp the concept that Freecycle is about giving stuff you no longer want away rather than throwing it in the garbage, and is not a charity!)

I'm not usually known for my generosity, mostly because I know too many sorry-assed lazy bums who expect to be handed stuff instead of having to work for it like the rest of us do.
I am also of the School of 'If you don't have it, and can't get it for yourself, then do without'.
I'm sorry but your kid does not need a Nintendo DS, PSP, or Playstation for Christmas.

Anyway, there were some pretty humble requests, things like people needing a winter coat, clothes and/or shoes for their kids, ANY kind of toy for (girl/boy) (age) years old (Some people were specifying by Name exactly what toys they wanted someone to give them).
I have a good bit of stuff that was on some of the lists just hanging around here taking up space, so I picked a few of the requests and have started putting some stuff together to give. Mostly clothes.

The thing with toys is, my youngest is 17. Most of the toys I have are probably a decade old. No Dora, no Cars, no Toy Story 3, never even heard of Lapaloosy (?) until this Wish List thing.

At any rate, I decided it was still worth going through the toys I had to see if there was anything anyone might could use.

It didn't start out well. I started with the red tub full of Kevin's "babies" (stuffed animals). As bad as my memory is 99% of the time, I remembered where just about every one of those "babies" came from. Like the Stingray from Grand Cayman, when we went on a big family cruise and went swimming with the Stingrays. Or the Fairly Godfather Goldfish Kev won at the Guess-Your-Weight booth at the Carowinds park in N/S Carolina because I knew they wouldn't be able to guess his weight. He looked tiny, but he was a little Bamm-Bamm kid, muscle instead of baby fat, so he weighed more than he looked. It always surprised the nurses at the Dr's office when he went for checkups.  (Was that cheating the game, you reckon, me knowing that?)

Anyway, my project nearly came to a screeching halt before it even got started. Then I told myself, you know what, you don't have to deal with this right now. Put them aside and move on.
I went and got a garbage bag to put the "babies" in for now, and when I was digging on down towards the bottom, I found some babies that really weren't as sentimental. They were more like the rest of the toys, bought because he saw it and wanted it, or given to him by someone who knew he liked stuffed animals, but you know, no real memory attached to it. So I was able to chuck those into a Give Away bag.
I still kept more than I got rid of, but at least I did get rid of some. Progress.

Then I moved on to a large cardboard box of toys. Again, didn't start out well. At first sight I didn't see anything I thought I could get rid of. But then my Alter-voice asked "What the hell do you think you need to keep all that for?"
"Because it was {Daniel's/Ryan's/Kevin's}."
"So?"
"So, maybe they'll wish they still had their old toys one day."
I went through a period where I wished I had my toys from when I was a kid, and actually bought alot of the stuff I remember from off Ebay. But now I don't even want the stuff anymore, and anyway, it was probably some sort of insanity on my part and probably the boys won't even feel the same way. John's never yearned over old toys long gone. Or my sister, or brother-in-law, or anyone else I really know, I guess. Apparently I thought it was a common thing because of the people I was "associating" with (other "Toy Collectors" online).

So after thinking it over, it was alot easier to start tossing stuff into the Give Away pile. Just in case, though, I got Ryan to come look at everything and put stuff in his hand and he didn't seem to express any regret at seeing it go. And, to make doubly sure, I had Kevin look over it when he got home, and he said there was nothing he cared about keeping either.

Easy, over, and done, right? Ohhh noooo. Not with me. It seems I have this control problem. Like, I have to control where it goes, or who it goes to.
My Alter-voice is saying "Throw the junk in the box and take it to the Thrift Store, or offer it on freecycle and let someone else deal with it, for crapsake!"
Can't.

The stuff in the box is pretty close to shit-nobody-would-want. I'll donate that to the thrift store and maybe they can make a nickel or dime off it.
The other stuff it more decent stuff, but different aged stuff.  There are some younger kid toys, and older kid toys, so I need to make sure it goes to the right aged kid. If I give it all to one person that only has a younger or older kid, then the rest of the stuff is worthless to them. They might throw it away (yes I do know people just that stupid).

So I started dividing it up into groups to offer on freecycle. Today I gave a grouping of Train related items: Kevin's blue/white striped engineers cap and wooden train whistle we got when rode the Tennessee Valley Railroad during one of our Spring Break trips a few years ago (waahhh!), a bubble-blower train whistle, a poster of a vintage train engine, and some Thomas the Tank Engine toys.

But the person wasn't coming until after 5:00, so I didn't list any other toys to give away because I didn't want the same person to hit me up again and say like, I want that, too...I want it all...because I'm greedy greedy.
Alter-voice is asking, "What the hell do you care, as long as it's out of your way, and out of your house?!?"
I don't know! I don't know!

While the voices in my head continue their argument, here's how much of the livingroom I got primered last night, before I ran out of the stuff. Had to go to WM this morning and get another gallon.
I'm going to get the rest finished up tonight, and then hopefully painted tomorrow. I'm really afraid I'm going to run out the Blue, too, since I had to repaint the whole first wall because I messed it up, and I really don't need another whole gallon of it. But a pint isn't enough, and paying for two pints isn't much different from paying for a gallon so that would be dumb.