Today I set out to clean my apartment for anticipated company, but instead I got busy with rearranging my bedroom. It’s kind of a problem area because I have about one too many wall-dwelling pieces of furniture to fit in my 9×10 (estimate?) room. But I made it work for now, and if it miraculously stays tidy I’ll have full access to my chair, closets, desk, and dresser for the first time in six months or so.
Part of rearranging things is coming across things that I have hung onto for some reason. Today I kind of threw out with abandon some of the paperstuff that I have been hanging on to…for some reason that I cannot explain I have a fascination with the written word to the extent that I saved the classified ad that my current job came from. By itself it doesn’t take up much room (thankfully), but it’s one of too-many-to-count items like that. A month or so ago I cleaned out a box of binders of their contents. Granted, I found that content very useful, and possibly useful for posterity, but the truth is that it’s another delayed decision and more to move (should I ever move again, which I kind of hope I do on a variety of levels).
I have particular attachment to things that are still good for use…be they notecards without envelopes, pencils, pens, shoes I don’t really like, tickets from musicals I have been to, index cards with verses that I wrote for displaying on my mirror or some other surface, pictures, correspondence, you name it. Clothes are another story. I haven’t worn my hawkeye marching band polo since the Outback Bowl in 2006, nor will I ever wear it again, but it has a hallowed place in my closet. The more I think about the accumulation of stuff (yipes, yarn), the less OK I am with it…so I’m going through. It’s not my strongest suit (it’s hard), but I have got to pitch things that a)make me a viable candidate for Hoarders, the show, and b)are needlessly nostalgic for me.
I could go on and on. I already have! Apologies!!
For now I will enjoy the opened up layout with some tea and knitting while I gear up for another late night (Salt Company, woo woo!).