I'm making a massive sweep through the house this week. Normally, I try to declutter AND clean at the same time. Yes, I realize that's ridiculous and never works. But I still do it. 'Cause I'm a dork like that.
THIS time, I have a goal. Or, rather, a foot up my butt. My mom's neighborhood is having a big garage sale this weekend, so I'm going to bring my stuff to her house. I have never seen so much junk come out of my house (except for after the flood, of course).
You see, I'm no good at purging when there's no concrete garage sale goal in sight. Oh, I can do a bag of clothes here and there and drop them off at Goodwill, no problem. But one or two toys or kitchen thingies hardly justify the gas to drop the stuff off. And I can't bring myself to throw them away. I've tried the donation box by the door, but that just gets in the way, and doesn't get filled. Ever. So I plan a garage sale for some undecided far-off date. The problem? My clutter ends up in boxes, so now I have box clutter, which is just as bad as real clutter, and it actually gets in the way a lot more the real clutter.
But this time, I have a date. Set by someone else. And my mother reminding me to bring my crap over there. I should feel pretty darn good by Saturday afternoon.
And we will NOT discuss how I grabbed the outdoor baby swing to put in my car this morning, and had to put it down and walk away because I couldn't see through the crazy lady tears. No, we won't talk about that.