My clutter, let me show you it!
On second thought, no.
In the same way that one of my friends’ blogs launched my thoughts gifting-ward, another has recently blogged about purging Stuff. And as I commented on her post, I’ve never actually done a large-scale stuff-purge/clearing of space. Sure, after Mom died I donated her clothes and shoes (which pained me, in some cases, because she had some gorgeous high heels — but my feets were too big, dammit) and her bedroom set and some of the living-room furniture, but I don’t consider that purging because it wasn’t *my* stuff. Technically, yes, by right of inheritance and all, but you know what I mean.
Nor do I consider having donated Steve’s belongings (with his parents’ permission) a purge of my space because, again, Not My Stuff.
You’d have thought losing the house, or the run-up to losing the house, would have jarred me loose in that regard, would have inspired me to at least start paring down, minimizing, whatever, and it might have, had I not been paralyzed by fear and in denial of the idea a just universe (heh) would let it happen.
But it did happen, and while I did get rid of a lot of stuff, I can’t really call that a purge either: it was haphazard, unfocused, more a matter of “I’ll never have room for all of it here Neighbor would you like $Things?” There are things I wish I’d kept even though, realistically, I either wouldn’t have had room for all of it in storage, or it wouldn’t have survived in good enough condition to make it worth the effort of getting it there (the records are what particularly come to mind).
The fact is, I have always been more or less disorganized, and I have always had a higher tolerance for clutter than my mother. Or possibly her idea of clutter and mine were incompatible. I’m definitely not as bad as my late and (mostly) unlamented aunt, who at one point had so much crap in her little apartment that you practically had to climb over the back of the sofa to get in the front door, and who couldn’t have vacuumed the floor had the notion struck her.
I never knew fleas cocooned until I saw her carpet.
Okay, sorry about that. I’d offer you a unicorn chaser, but I apparently don’t any image software on the new machine yet so I can’t save jpg files.
Anyway. I no longer live in a house. Hell, the room I rented immediately after losing the house had more space than where I’m currently living. And I kept it under control for quite a while, but things have very definitely started to slip, and I honestly do not have the room. Isn’t like I can just hop in the car and drop the excess into the storage space, either. So I have to reorganize at the very least, but there’s stuff to purge as well.
I need to clear some space. Doing so will be a good thing. I shall make an actual plan, and let you know the results.