I keep looking around my teeny tiny house and thinking that I have entirely too much stuff for one person. My basement is damp and covered in spiderwebs and the mice occasionally vacation there when they get tired of hanging out in my kitchen drawers, so it’s not the ideal storage space. Since I had an extra day this weekend (two whole days off in a row, woot!), I determined to cut down on my stuff. And since I had two whole days off in a row, I spent one of them mostly goofing off. Well, I don’t count a SEVEN MILE RUN as goofing off, but I certainly wasn’t getting any housework done at the time. Plus the last Harry Potter movie was playing at the local cheap theater, so I basically HAD to go watch it.
I was as ruthless as I could force myself to be. I’m not a hoarder or anything……….yet. I threw away old, threadbare, sentimental stuff. I gathered up cute things that I don’t really need (vintage Christmas apron, anyone? Random stuffed animals?) and bagged them up for donation to Goodwill, or silent auctions for charity, or the local library. I didn’t get brave enough to work on the Halloween tubs—it’s my favorite holiday and I’m pretty sure I need MORE Halloween decorations, not fewer. But that is the attitude that filled up all those storage tubs in the first place. I had the same sort of trouble with the kitchen stuff (yes, I NEED three different sizes of muffin tins because you can’t make brownie bites in regular muffin tins and you can’t make giant bakery muffins in anything but the big muffin tin and I don’t like tiny cupcakes so I have to have the regular muffin tin). I’m going to have to be stern with myself, I suspect. Sigh. Why do I have to love all my stuff so much? This is where hoarding starts, isn’t it?