Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people. - Eleanor Roosevelt

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Outgrowing my space?

I spent all day today tidying up my room, which I haven't tidied up in quite some time. When I say tidying up, I mean like major overhaul, where I throw away things that have been sitting in the same spot for entirely too long for no apparent reason.

It's amazing how much junk I've racked up since the last time I decided to get rid of what is basically just clutter without any value or use to me. It's the same every time. I get one of those big hefty bags after I fill up the waste basket in my room and start throwing away stuff without thinking about it. I eliminate thinking because if I actually gave it some thought I wouldn't get rid of anything and that would be counter-productive. But even with my resolve to just toss stuff in the bag without letting nostalgia get the better of me, I still end up with too much stuff.

So, what is this junk I'm speaking of? You name it, I've got it stored somewhere in my room. Mostly-blank notebooks, lone issues of magazines so old I have no idea why I'm saving them anymore, mostly-empty bottles of lotion, earrings I haven't worn since I turned twenty-five. That's just some of what's outside of my closet.

My closet needs a bull-dozer. It is full of clothes that are out of style, but are still in such good shape I don't have the heart to write them off, but I also don't wear them, because they're super-dated. There are also shoes. Tons and tons of shoes. Mountains of 'em sit on the floor of my closet. Being a shoe-a-holic is not only expensive, but it requires a lot of space to support that I don't have and haven't had for so long I've got shoeboxes sitting in a corner housing the overflow of my vice.

I kept thinking to myself as I went through all the junk that I am a slob who needs to learn how to be more tidy, but another thought kept interrupting that one. It just might be that I have as much stuff as anyone my age, maybe even less than someone my age, but it's the deficit of my own storage space that makes me look like a pack rat when I am really not that bad. At least I hope that's the only problem . . . .

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