tidying
I recently read Marie Kondo's The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up.
She's right. It is life-changing. Especially for a hoarder like me.
Some things I've realised, in no particular order:
1. The volume of letters that a given person has written me is inversely proportional to how much I cherish those letters. You would think it's got something to do with scarcity or rarity, but no. I've just never managed to inspire much letter writing from people that I was mad mad mad about. Only people who were distractions from monotony. (That feeling being more or less mutual).
2. I have an unreasonable attachment to old homework papers. Probably because they took too much effort to produce. Or because I no longer understand what is written on them in my handwriting. They're proof that once upon a time I knew what things like hermitian operators are.
3. I've gotten over things I never thought I would let go of. Some of them funny and trivial like Archie comics. Others less so, like my first boyfriend.
4. I have still not gotten over certain other things that were nothing at the time. And are still nothing now. The person I wrote this for, for example. Of course, that person no longer exists, and probably never did except in my imagination.
5. I spend a lot of time shopping. Even though I know I don't need anything. Even though I don't want anything. Even though I have no space for anything. I've been trying for years to figure it out. Is it just that I love shopping? That I love things? That I love touching things? That it's fun to search for the unknown? Don't get metaphysical on me and tell me there's something missing from my life that I'm trying to find digging in the 49 cent bin at Goodwill. I know that it's half true but I don't want to admit it. That thing is my drive. Everyone else seems to have one. Mine is stalled and has been for quite some time.
6. I am allergic to clothes that have been unworn for a month or longer. This one is extremely annoying. I might have to pare down my wardrobe to less than a month's worth of things.
7. I can list the items that I've lost or misplaced which drive my hoarder tendencies. I am terrified of losing more things and feeling this way about them. The things themselves are laughable: my stuffed killer whale, the key to a secret surprise My Little Pony (it opened the secret saddle compartment), and the sheath to a pair of Sanrio My Melody scissors.
She's right. It is life-changing. Especially for a hoarder like me.
Some things I've realised, in no particular order:
1. The volume of letters that a given person has written me is inversely proportional to how much I cherish those letters. You would think it's got something to do with scarcity or rarity, but no. I've just never managed to inspire much letter writing from people that I was mad mad mad about. Only people who were distractions from monotony. (That feeling being more or less mutual).
2. I have an unreasonable attachment to old homework papers. Probably because they took too much effort to produce. Or because I no longer understand what is written on them in my handwriting. They're proof that once upon a time I knew what things like hermitian operators are.
3. I've gotten over things I never thought I would let go of. Some of them funny and trivial like Archie comics. Others less so, like my first boyfriend.
4. I have still not gotten over certain other things that were nothing at the time. And are still nothing now. The person I wrote this for, for example. Of course, that person no longer exists, and probably never did except in my imagination.
5. I spend a lot of time shopping. Even though I know I don't need anything. Even though I don't want anything. Even though I have no space for anything. I've been trying for years to figure it out. Is it just that I love shopping? That I love things? That I love touching things? That it's fun to search for the unknown? Don't get metaphysical on me and tell me there's something missing from my life that I'm trying to find digging in the 49 cent bin at Goodwill. I know that it's half true but I don't want to admit it. That thing is my drive. Everyone else seems to have one. Mine is stalled and has been for quite some time.
6. I am allergic to clothes that have been unworn for a month or longer. This one is extremely annoying. I might have to pare down my wardrobe to less than a month's worth of things.
7. I can list the items that I've lost or misplaced which drive my hoarder tendencies. I am terrified of losing more things and feeling this way about them. The things themselves are laughable: my stuffed killer whale, the key to a secret surprise My Little Pony (it opened the secret saddle compartment), and the sheath to a pair of Sanrio My Melody scissors.