Well, I fixed it. Three garbage bags full of donations, one garbage bag full of garbage, two new storage containers, and backwards hangers and I fixed it.
Full disclosure: that pink bin in the middle hasn’t been touched yet. That’s another project for another day. I’m tired. In addition to conquering the closet, I also attacked my cupboards and refrigerator and am dealing with PTSD from shopping at Walmart.
* * *
Clutter overwhelms me. It is so easy to prevent, yet one day I’m suddenly buried alive. I’m good at keeping the clutter away at work, but when it comes to my personal life, I fail miserably. Piles upon piles of shit. And it’s not that I’m a . . . *gasp* hoarder–it’s that my priorities lie elsewhere. It’s not that I don’t care about cleanliness–I like the simplicity of a clean space.
Yet time and time again the laundry piles up, the dishes stack up, and my reaction is not to clean but to avoid. Avoid and add. Over and over again. Until I’m buried alive.
Or at least that’s how I feel.
And what am I doing now? No, not cleaning. Not sorting. Not organizing. But blogging. Because I don’t want to spend my evening cleaning. I can do that another day. On a day that I can devote entirely to cleaning.
I’m making it happen this weekend. Hold me to it. Hold me to digging myself out of the clutter and starting fresh . . . again.