I've been on a spring cleaning binge.
Actually, part two of a binge. The first part took place in February. Let's call that the "pre-emptive to spring" cleaning binge. Back in the day of the PTSCB, I went through 7+ years worth of stuff that I have hoarded, kept and moved with me through 3 apartments. That's a lot of crap.
I was getting tired of stepping over it, piling things on top of it, moving it from one place to another, and justifying it with the old excuse, "Oh I might need that someday, and I'm going to be mad if I can't find it when I need it."
We've been taught since we were kids that we should "Just Say No" to situations that are dangerous, or that make us uncomfortable, or that are just plain wrong. But what they don't tell us is, the hardest person to say no to is usually yourself. And believe me, no one dislikes arguing with me more than me, so it was very difficult to tell myself, "No, you don't need that...it's time for it to go."
But I did incredibly well. In just a few days, I managed to get rid of about 15 bags of garbage and recycling, and probably another 10 empty cardboard boxes. Finally, I had room to breathe! It was a joyous occasion.
While I still had some stuff to go through, of the stuff that I did manage to tackle, I was able to reduce the pile down to 1 large box of papers to shred, 3 boxes of stuff to keep and sort, and 1 large box of clothes and shoes to be donated.
Then I hit a wall.
Not literally, of course. That would hurt. I mean metaphorically.
I had some friends over for my birthday in March, and wanted to make sure the place was presentable, so most of the stuff that had to be dealt with was shoved into my hall closet and my bedroom, both of which had doors that could be shut to conceal their contents from the outside world. I put the stuff in those locations, promising myself I would continue the momentum and finish what I had started right after my birthday.
Which brings us to this weekend. Not quite 3 months after my birthday, for anyone who is keeping track.
I had been fighting with everything in the hall closet since February, and the closet won every time, so I decided this was the weekend to fix that. I hauled everything out, and went through another sorting phase. As you can expect, more stuff had piled on top of the existing stuff, so I wasn't sorting what I had already gone through, at least.
Saturday afternoon: Closet was 95% done. The walking surface is now cleared of clutter, but there are still some boxes with old bills and stuff piled up on top of my cabinets (they're a whole other day unto themselves). I also rearranged a lot of the remaining contents to make them more accessible to me, based on their frequency of use. I am incredibly smart that way.
Sunday afternoon: Keeping the momentum going was hard at first, but I went through the giant box of clothes and shoes in my bedroom, transferred them to four bags, and dropped them off at a donation bin in the city.
When I got home from my delivery run, I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders as I walked through the door. Even though the bedroom and closet doors remained closed, I knew that if I were to open them, I would no longer have to fear for my life.
Just that thought alone makes me happier than you can even imagine.
I recommend cleaning house to everyone. Whether it's a bunch of old papers you have lying around, a pile of gadgets that seemed oh-so-useful at the time but have been gathering dust for years, or hey, even if there are people in your life that are dragging you down, house clean it all.
You'll feel a lot better when you do. Take it from me.
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