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Mar. 29th, 2009 03:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickI'm cleaning out my closet. This is kind of a second-draft of closet cleaning. The first time around (some years ago) I told myself that I totally would, really and completely, make more of an effort to go through and wear what passes for my wardrobe. I lied.
This time I'm doing a more strict interpretation of the "if you have not worn this item in more than a year, throw it away" rule. A lot of internet-era t-shirts bit the dust in this go-round. No ISPF shirt. No Priori (You Could Be Dead) shirt. No newsfeed.com shirt (My ISP Sucks Less!). No. Clothing that I don't wear, gone. There are four bags of clothing sitting ready to leave my house on Monday. Gone.
Now, I need to do the same thing for non-clothing items. Four bags or bag-equivalents of stuff need to leave. I'm trying to think of this as shedding (like my horse is doing an alarming amount of, these days), kind of a getting-ready-for-spring activity. I am a packrat. I accumulate things, even things that I do not need and will never look at again. There is No Reason On Earth why I need old Otakon badges. None. There is no reason I have plant catalogs from 1993. These should be thrown away. I do not, honestly, need as many books as are in my house, quite a few of which I will never, ever read again. I am going to thrown some of them away. (The local used book store pays in trade, which does not help me. The books are old and beat up, were used when I bought them, and consist mostly of cheap, trashy romances. I am throwing them away. I am.) I don't need FLOPPY DISKS, for fuck's sake, FLOPPY DISKS with Windows 3.x software on them. Buh? Oh, and did I fail to mention that these were 5 1/4 disks? Right. They are. I do not need tapes of music. I don't have anything to play tapes with anymore, not in the entire house. THROW AWAY. Same goes for VHS. DEAD FORMAT, DIE DIE DIE! Smucker's harness catalog, ca 1992. Don't need it. Four bag-equivalents. I can do this. I can. The alternative is winding up in a house that is crammed floor-to-ceiling with stuff, with tunnels through the stuff to get around to the assorted rooms. I am not going to live in a trash house. Things Must Be Thrown Away.
(The preceding has been a pep talk mostly for me. I marvel at the people who have no trouble culling their herd of stuff. I need to make a special effort to Throw Things Away.)
This time I'm doing a more strict interpretation of the "if you have not worn this item in more than a year, throw it away" rule. A lot of internet-era t-shirts bit the dust in this go-round. No ISPF shirt. No Priori (You Could Be Dead) shirt. No newsfeed.com shirt (My ISP Sucks Less!). No. Clothing that I don't wear, gone. There are four bags of clothing sitting ready to leave my house on Monday. Gone.
Now, I need to do the same thing for non-clothing items. Four bags or bag-equivalents of stuff need to leave. I'm trying to think of this as shedding (like my horse is doing an alarming amount of, these days), kind of a getting-ready-for-spring activity. I am a packrat. I accumulate things, even things that I do not need and will never look at again. There is No Reason On Earth why I need old Otakon badges. None. There is no reason I have plant catalogs from 1993. These should be thrown away. I do not, honestly, need as many books as are in my house, quite a few of which I will never, ever read again. I am going to thrown some of them away. (The local used book store pays in trade, which does not help me. The books are old and beat up, were used when I bought them, and consist mostly of cheap, trashy romances. I am throwing them away. I am.) I don't need FLOPPY DISKS, for fuck's sake, FLOPPY DISKS with Windows 3.x software on them. Buh? Oh, and did I fail to mention that these were 5 1/4 disks? Right. They are. I do not need tapes of music. I don't have anything to play tapes with anymore, not in the entire house. THROW AWAY. Same goes for VHS. DEAD FORMAT, DIE DIE DIE! Smucker's harness catalog, ca 1992. Don't need it. Four bag-equivalents. I can do this. I can. The alternative is winding up in a house that is crammed floor-to-ceiling with stuff, with tunnels through the stuff to get around to the assorted rooms. I am not going to live in a trash house. Things Must Be Thrown Away.
(The preceding has been a pep talk mostly for me. I marvel at the people who have no trouble culling their herd of stuff. I need to make a special effort to Throw Things Away.)
