Before Christmas I did a closet clean-out and piled two garbage bags full of clothes that I haven't worn for...well some of them I've had since high school. It felt good, and a bit melancholic as well. My closet and drawers were jam-packed full, but a lot of the stuff that I was donating was just slightly too small for me (or a lot too small, depending what era of my life it originated in), and I couldn't help but thinking that I could get some use out of it if I would just lose that ten pounds (or 20, or 30...)
Now that we are moving (yay yay yay), it's time to do a full purge of all of our stuff. We have stuff that I haven't seen since we moved it from Lennoxville five years ago. That stuff has to go.
Yesterday was Closet Day, and I cleaned out mine and SB's closet, and all of our dressers. We ended up with three more garbage bags of clothes to donate, and one garbage bag of garbage - torn, ripped, gross clothes that no one would want. And underwear. Who wants 2nd hand underwear? Where did all this stuff come from?
Today is Magazine Day - I'm trying to go through all the magazines I have accumulated, pull out anything useful, and chuck the rest. Wedding mags stay. Cosmo from 1987 is garbage. New Yorker is a keeper. US magazine announcing Britney and Justin's break-up - although nostalgic - is getting recycled.
I feel good getting all these things done, and finally decluttering, but I also feel a bit overwhelmed. When did we accumulate all of this stuff? Where did it come from? And, though it may seem trivial, some things are hard to make the call on. What if in three months I think back and regret chucking something?
So much pressure.