Monday, September 20, 2010

Confession Time.


I. Am. A hoarder.

Okay, okay, maybe not. But... maybe.

I'm totally addicted to the shows that are on about hoarders. Something about their disgusting fridges and piles up to the ceiling fascinates me. While I do endeavour not to let my fridge get that way, the piles up to the ceiling part scares me. Am I a hoarder? Had I but the time and money, would I be up to my armpits in precious *things*?

Before we had kids, we had thousands of books. We love them. Date night could quite possibly see us spending a few hours in Chapters strolling hand in hand picking up any book that caught our eye. Since the kids, We've come to realise that this is an expensive and space stealing hobby. We have befriended e-books and our local library. We've donated hundreds of books to various places in hopes of them finding a good home. But looking at our shelves, you can't really tell. That's the part that frightens me. What do you *mean* we just took 6 boxes full of books out of here and we're still two deep on every shelf? Are they procreating??

Another soft spot for me is craft supplies. I love them. I love the feel of fresh paper. I love sorting through little embellishments. I love sorting buttons! I sew, I knit, I draw, I paint... I love it all. The worst thing about craft stuff is that I have actually hung on to something for 10 years and then found it was absolutely perfect for something. How can I throw anything out after that? I've been getting better though. I've been trying to use up what I already have, and not getting anything new unless it's for a specific project that I am actually working on. And at least my hobby stores flat. Mostly.

My husband is a tech geek. He loves anything to do with technology. I totally understand. I don't really understand why we need so many monitors though. Or the whole box of cables; half of them are so old that they will never be useful ever again. He also loves Star Wars. Anyone who knows someone who loves Star Wars knows what this means. For anyone else, I don't have enough space here to detail all the Star Wars things that are out there to collect.

He is also a musician. We have instruments in our house. We have 4 guitars, 1 bass guitar, 2 or 3 amplifiers, a keyboard and a drum kit; there's probably more that I don't know about. These things do not store flat, my friend! Yet, these are not things to be gotten rid of. These are things that make my husband happy. These are things we hope to teach the girls to play.

I've decided to get rid of stuff. Anything that I have two of, one has got to go. Anything that I haven't used in a year or more? Gone!* Anything that's not actually mine, but I'm hanging onto it because I just know that the person really will want it back for sentimental reasons eventually? Gone!

I really can understand how it happens though - these piles to the ceiling. I can also understand how hard it is to get rid of things. I'm just lucky that I'm actually scared enough by these shows about how bad it can get that I stalk around the room with a box marked 'Goodwill', pulling things off shelves while I watch.




*Except if it is some sort of craft supply that will totally be useful at some point.

2 comments:

  1. I know someone who really could be on one of those shows - actually she's worse than anyone I've seen on them. There are pathways through her house just wide enough to walk. Every surface is covered and there are clothes hanging on curtain rails. It's nauseatingly dark and uncomfortable. You can't be that bad.

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    1. Not quite *that* bad... but there have been occasions where a pile or two were teetering perilously close to the ceiling. The girls room is clear, and so is (most) of the living room, but we've got no storage here, so anything that doesn't have a proper place gets stuffed behind the couch or piled in my room.

      And I think it could get that bad, if every once in a while I didn't start feeling a little claustrophobic and savagely attack the piles before they attack me.

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