I know I said I was going to ditch some junk......well, it isn't junk exactly......I suppose it is excess stuff...or if we were being unkind I suppose I could call it clutter. I am very bad at getting rid of 'stuff'.
I have this thing about 'stuff'. Whenever I ditch something invariably three weeks later I regret it because I find that it wasn't junk, or clutter and that I need it.
I am OK with getting rid of stuff that is broken, but even then I think that it might come in handy for something....you know, like to repair something else.
I once read that clutter increases until you have filled all your spare space..... and then you have to move to accommodate more clutter!
Perhaps I was a squirrel in a past life. I definitely have some very squirrely tendencies. I buy things that I might not need at the moment, but may have a need for in the future...and in that future I always see myself as being short of cash....so I buy the thing now and put it away for the day when I will need it......except that if that days comes, well, it is to be sure that I won't remember where the heck it was that I squirrelled it away.
There must be a name for this disorder...and if there is a name for it there must be treatment....except I don't think I would have any treatment....we all need a weakness don't we?
I sometimes wonder whether my 'problem' stems from being a deprived child.
Born just after the war meant that there were still few resources available. In any case we were what would be considered a poor family.
Hand me down clothes and jumble sale shoes left me feeling that all opportunites must be taken while the money was there.
The hand me down clothes didn't even come from members of my own family. I think I probably looked a real rag bag of a child....though photo's prove that I had an endearing smile....which is probably how I got the hand me down clothes.
I remember once walking home from school with the sole of my shoe hanging off. It was slapping the pavement like a round of applause.
I was walking up Cotton St. when a very kind lady(who I didn't know from a bar of soap) asked me in and offered me a pair of lovely red sandals....her daughter had grown out of them and they were hardly worn.
I took them and thanked her......I wore them all through the summer and felt a real toff.
I am hoping that when you read this, there are some of you out there who can identify with my 'problem'....anyway, I shouldn't be here really.......I came up here to put some 'stuff' into black bags....though I am not entirely sure what I was going to do with it once it was bagged up!
I have this thing about 'stuff'. Whenever I ditch something invariably three weeks later I regret it because I find that it wasn't junk, or clutter and that I need it.
I am OK with getting rid of stuff that is broken, but even then I think that it might come in handy for something....you know, like to repair something else.
I once read that clutter increases until you have filled all your spare space..... and then you have to move to accommodate more clutter!
Perhaps I was a squirrel in a past life. I definitely have some very squirrely tendencies. I buy things that I might not need at the moment, but may have a need for in the future...and in that future I always see myself as being short of cash....so I buy the thing now and put it away for the day when I will need it......except that if that days comes, well, it is to be sure that I won't remember where the heck it was that I squirrelled it away.
There must be a name for this disorder...and if there is a name for it there must be treatment....except I don't think I would have any treatment....we all need a weakness don't we?
I sometimes wonder whether my 'problem' stems from being a deprived child.
Born just after the war meant that there were still few resources available. In any case we were what would be considered a poor family.
Hand me down clothes and jumble sale shoes left me feeling that all opportunites must be taken while the money was there.
The hand me down clothes didn't even come from members of my own family. I think I probably looked a real rag bag of a child....though photo's prove that I had an endearing smile....which is probably how I got the hand me down clothes.
I remember once walking home from school with the sole of my shoe hanging off. It was slapping the pavement like a round of applause.
I was walking up Cotton St. when a very kind lady(who I didn't know from a bar of soap) asked me in and offered me a pair of lovely red sandals....her daughter had grown out of them and they were hardly worn.
I took them and thanked her......I wore them all through the summer and felt a real toff.
I am hoping that when you read this, there are some of you out there who can identify with my 'problem'....anyway, I shouldn't be here really.......I came up here to put some 'stuff' into black bags....though I am not entirely sure what I was going to do with it once it was bagged up!