that seems important to do
and it’s not sweaty
I’m de-cluttering my mind with this post.
There is too much shit in this house. Most of it is plastic and intended for children over 3. But a lot of it belongs to me. I just finally threw away the glittery lotion I bought to wear at my wedding. (Yes, I was a faintly glittery bride. Stop laughing.) That glittery lotion has been under my various sinks for 8 years now. And by saying "various sinks" I’m not using a euphemism. I mean actually under my sink. Taking up space. Along with 95,000 maxi pads of varying sizes and shapes, some straightening gel from that one time when I went though the unfortunate stage of wanting to make my hair look "silky and smooth" (aka: caked with hair gel and still curly), some lonely cotton balls, and a very old pack of birth control pills.
I’ve managed to throw a lot of stuff away. But there’s just so much! We’ve only been in this house for four years. Did I pack and move all of this stuff with me when we moved here? How did it fit in my apartment? Have I really accumulated all of this crap since moving here? I know the answer is yes, I mean I’ve accumulated two kids since moving here, so that in and of itself means my crap-level is bordering on epic proportions.
Everyone who’s reading this needs to buy some stock in the parent company of Hefty Bags. Why? Because listen… hear that? It’s a rustling noise. Every now and then there’s a smash and a curse and then the rustling begins again. It is the sound of a shitstorm. A shitstorm of random objects that I’m struggling to avoid any emotional attachment to.
I hope GoodWill needs a lot of shitstormy plastic, cause it’s on the way.