Monday, September 01, 2008

Making Space

My name is Jaggy, and I'm a pack rat. Hello. Yes, hello there. Nice to meet you all. This weekend, my disease came into full focus as I helped my parents move. My father is also a pack rat. Apparently this condition is inheritable.

Mom and Dad asked The Boy and me to help them move their big stuff on Saturday. I've moved my own stuff before, but since my parents have only moved one other time in my lifetime (and that was just across town, a mile maybe) when I was 8, I don't exactly remember how much stuff they have. We got all the big, heavy stuff moved. Nobody lost an eye. Mom fed us twice. All-in-all, the day went fairly smoothly. They're on their own with all the boxes of little stuff though.

When I got home Saturday night, my long-weekend mission was to clear out some of my stuff. I went through old boxes full of grade school papers and tossed the stuff I no longer wanted. Sure, I kept a few reports and mementos, but my 16"x24" full box transformed into a three-inch stack of papers. I cleaned out my desk and organized it. My bedroom closet got emptied (although, admittedly, 98% of that stuff was put back). I tore through my dresser and got rid of clothes I haven't worn in years, which thankfully gave me an empty drawer to work with again. And lastly, the hall closet... oh my. Let's just say I tossed enough stuff to free up an entire shelf. Yeah.

I have three grocery sacks of clothes to donate, two bags full of paper materials that I'm recycling, and one box of crap that cannot be recycled or reused (duct tape corset anyone?). It's that much more crap I don't have to move next time. And yes, it feels good to make some space in my life.

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