The last several weeks I’ve been slowly clearing out the house. Inspired by Denise and Christine, who recently moved, and Tiffani, who sold every last damned thing she owned last year and moved the whole fam damily to California (I even ended up with a couple things of hers), I’m clearing out the house. Room by room, closet by closet, cabinet by cabinet.
We currently have no plans to move, but after seven years here it still needs to be done. And as organized as I am, and as often as I declutter the House of Chaos, I’m stunned at the amount of sheer crap I’m stuffing into the garage. My criterion for removal is 1) would I mourn this if it was lost in a natural disaster, and 2) would I be willing to move this thing across country. Amazing how much you can eliminate when you look at things through those color glasses. Oh, that color is a pale lemon, by the way.
If you felt the world tremble on its axis last week, that was me clearing four large garbage bags of crap from the boys’ rooms. That’s NOT including what I’m donating, simply trash. If you’re starting to feel a disturbance in the force, that’s my husband looking over his shoulder as I eye his office. My God, I want to Feng Shui that thing with an effin’ blowtorch. And that cold breeze of discontent is me looking at my wardrobe, preparing my psyche for getting rid of all the clothes for which my ass has grown too large.
I have a timeline. Well, two. The first one is getting the garage cleared out before a heavy snow hits, because the MomVan is sitting outside and I really hate clearing snow off my vehicle. Oh, and two enormous windshield cracks are plenty, thankyouverymuch. And the second is the end of the year, because I really want the tax break. And as much as I’m tossing, it’ll be a big-ass tax break. Considering Tom took a pretty significant pay cut this year, I’ll take any break I can get.
The kitchen, my office, and our bedroom are all that’s left. And I am so not looking forward to those. Because they’re my domain. Tough decisions. “Will I ever fit in these pants again?” “Will I ever use this in a scrapbook?” “How often do I really use this kitchen tool?” But I want a cleared-out house, so I’ll dig in and get ‘er done.
Oh hells, forgot that I haven’t done the basement. And the storage room. And the bookshelves. And the pantry. And the wee little shed in the backyard. And the garage.
And I think I’ll investigate the underside of my desk as I sit and rock and pretend I’m not doing this to myself.