A Packrats Attempt to Control the Chaos

Okay, I admit it, I have a problem…that’s the first step right. I, Dana, am a pack rat. This is not a new revelation to me, just something I stuffed in the closet and ignored (it had alot of company in there too!). But it all came to a head when we moved to Idaho; as the movers stopped to ask me where to put each box on the way into the new house. I soon became horrified at the amount of boxes that said “craft room”. Boxes had to be diverted to other rooms due to overcrowding

The outside looking in

After they left and I walked into the craft room I became overwhelmed. I mean, I knew I had a lot of supplies, but did I really truly have that much? The short answer is…hmmm, maybe. While trying to organize the boxes I soon realized that the movers had been dropping boxes with labels such as kitchen, office and master in the craft room also. Because it was the closest room? Who knows, but it made me chuckle with relief and think, okay it’s not so bad. That’s until I went into other rooms and found more craft room boxes lurking among the others in corners and closets.

Purge! Purge! I cried, but where to start? My mind started spinning, first I needed to organize so I could see what I actually had. To do that I had to paint first because once everything went up, I know I wouldn’t take it down to paint. This was a massive undertaking. Maybe I should start with the clothes that don’t fit or I just don’t wear. Or all the kitchen gadgets that I don’t use. My brain was spinning and I was feeling truly overwhelmed and in chaos.

STOP! Just stop and calm down I told my momentarily overly dramatic panic attack self. Lets focus here!

I know there is a strong minimalist movement going on but that causes a slight (maybe more than slight) rise in adrenaline just to think about. I don’t need a DNA test to tell me I have the pack rat gene. I come by it honestly, my maternal Grandmother never threw away ANY THING. And I mean that literally. If food came in a plastic container, no matter how small, it was rinsed and reused for something else. I used to think that Tupperware was an empty cool whip container. You know, the words were used interchangeably, like Kleenex and tissue. And need some ketchup? No, don’t look in the fridge, check the second drawer to the left of the sink. And while you’re there, could you get me some hot sauce ? I cut her some slack because she lived through the depression. Her family moved from Oklahoma during the dust bowl with a mule pulling their car. I see how that could affect a person. My Grandparents were not rich by any stretch of the imagination so she never had financial freedom, and that insecurity made her keep everything so they could reuse in the lean times.

But I didn’t live through the depression and wasn’t deprived as a child. I attach sentimental value to almost everything and this is my downfall. Pretty sure I know the reason behind that too. I was a military brat, we didn’t move nearly as many times as some people but each move still brought with it the choice of what to keep and what to trash. Couldn’t keep everything. Guess I had a 50/50 shot of being a person who kept stuff to a minimum so as not to get caught up in making those choices, but I went the other way. Hold on to whatever you can! And every piece of paper your kids brought home too!

Since this is my new beginning, I want to start with a cleansing of my stuff, which I truly belief will also lead to a cleansing of my mind. I’m going to pick one room to concentrate on at a time. However, if that gets too overwhelming I’ll tackle something small to give me a sense of accomplishment and then return to the big beast. Ready? Here we go!

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