Ha! You can change the time! You can pretend that you got home from Swarthmore in time to write your post before midnight. Well, don't tell, but it's actually 12:14am as I begin...
My bedside table looks like a veritable drug store. Yes, I went to the doctor today, and probably that act alone made my back feel better. I'm not dying. I have some steroids and a PT appointment for Monday, and I expect to feel perfect tomorrow morning. I may revise this opinion, but nevertheless, I am optimistic that my back will recover and I can go back to strict house obsession.
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One of my major projects before I move and as I start to think packing is to de-clutter. I take things to the Salvation Army in dribs and drabs - books, clothes, random stuff I've acquired, but I need to do a more thorough job of this. I've been reading of this slightly more radical concept of the outbox, especially as promoted by the folks at Apartment Therapy. What they suggest is that when you go through stuff with an eye to de-clutter, anything you feel iffy about goes into a corner of your apartment designated as your outbox. And it sits there. One week, two weeks. Over time, you will either begin to detach yourself from your out box, or realize that some of the items are indispensable to your like, or most likely, some combination of the two.
I expect that this will work well for me. I have stuff that I like, but that I haven't actually associated with in years. In some cases, it's been because I've had not room to display or even look at said stuff. For others, I hang on to it for nostalgia.
Today I began to go through boxes of cards and letters with an eye toward tomorrow's paper recycling. I found that I could part with most of the stuff I looked at with little trouble, that the three boxes I sorted through was reduced to one small box (admittedly there are at least three more boxes to sort through). I hope the rest of the papers, and even the rest of that closet will go so easily!
One thing I have found to be true for myself is that I have a limited threshold for de-cluttering. The mood will come on me to go through stuff, and I will get a nice pile of stuff for Goodwill, and then just as suddenly, I will begin wavering on something. That's when I know I've gone through enough for that moment.
One thing I know for sure is that I will never live in a clutter-free place. I like my stuff too much. New clutter will replace deaccessioned clutter. But wish me luck in the next several weeks!
So, what's in your outbox?
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