Embarassing, yes, to write that down. Forgive the indulgence, but I need a little accountability to the task I've been avoiding. It'd be nice if I could say that it's only been a few days, or even just a few weeks. Nope. Try a couple months. Procrastination is a wicked thing.
However brilliant my household reorganization was two months ago, it fell short at the threashold of toy-o-rama. I haven't managed to muscle up enough motivation to tackle the long overdue project. And let's not underestimate the power of sentimental attachment, a kissing cousin to the classic doldrums of procrastination. The, "oh, I can't get rid of this yet, the kids used to play with this for hours," all very powerful distractions.
It wasn't until today when, Mr. Forget-me-not, threatened to take matters into his own hands (hands that'd be gripping a large trashbag) if the room didn't get an immediate purge.
With that kind of deadline, I'm thankful for the cattle prodding. I finally feel the urge to sort it out, throw it out, and hopefully, find a new home for old, but now ignored, favorites. To help channel the inner Purge Meister, I just spent the last 20 minutes watching the documentary, The Story of Stuff.
Holy Hannah, we Americans are a glutinous, overindulgent people! I'm not even talking about the keeping up with the Joneses mentality that influenced our obnoxious over consumption, either. It's flat out wrong how much unnecessary c.r.a.p. we buy. Even if it is on sale, or from a garage sale or thrift store. It's still just stuff.
Sionara to the stuff! No, I won't be buying more to replace it. I want breathing space, simplicity, quality not quantity.
Always on the grow,
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