I have a disease. OK, maybe not a disease, but at the very least I'm quite certain that if I were to seek professional help, a Dr. would have a name for this affliction. Recently my friend compared me to an old woman she saw on TV who hoarded everything from cereal boxes to used cat litter, convinced she could make good use of it. Well, I am one if those people. I simply cannot throw anything in the trash without feeling a pang of horrible guilt. I have to take a closer look at the alleged 'garbage' and ask myself, "Why must I purge this? Couldn't I find something to do with it before tossing it?" While I recognize this is a redeeming quality, I have gone somewhat overboard. This is a problem because 1) I irrationally convince myself that I have abilities beyond the super-human mind to turn anything one would deem 'refuse' into something practical and 2) I am a HUGE flake. A great idea soon becomes an onus that I can't seem to achieve because in reality I am a mother of three who suffers from ADD, I'm lucky if I can stay on top of feeding my own children on a daily basis (or I should say they are lucky).
I recently took stock of my hoarding and decided to document my steps in ridding my house of these barriers between myself and my sanity. I am starting with the kitchen for reasons mentioned on my last post. Behold the fruits of my recent labors.
Paper bags and mandarin crates:
More mandarin crates (this one actually serves a purpose)
Baby food jars (this represents only a fraction):
I was saving them for bead storage and then I realized, I gave away my beads.
And the root of all evil...plastic grocery bags!
I'm so embarrassed...