It’s not that I have an emotional attachment to most of the crap I own, it’s just that I have better things to do than purge and organize. I bring this up because Paul and I are moving into a new apartment and I’m wondering where I’m going to put all of the stuff I’ve been storing for the past two years. Do I even really need most of it? Probably not.
I try not to look at the way magazines and Martha Stewart organize things. None of that is reality. It’s possibly drug fueled fantasy or photoshopped color coordination, but it’s certainly not real for normal humans.
Reality is the clutter in the corners and the closet.
I Google “Organize my stuff” and quite a few unhelpful websites and blogs show up in the results. They tell me to buy bins, but not ones too big or too small. Oh, thanks Mr. Vague.
I’m tired of all these cutesy photos. I’m not going to put my pens in an old creamer that matches the color of the pens. I need to know how to deal with my shoes that doesn’t involve hanging them on the back of a door and what to do about all the damn toiletries in my hall closet. Speaking of closets…I’d like to not be embarrassed by them anymore…nor my “pantry” and no that’s not a euphemism. My pantry has always just been a few shelves in a cupboard in my kitchen. I’m using the term loosely.
I might be tall, but I’m not 6′ 3″ like Paul and I’m too lazy to pull out the step ladder (which also scares me a little) to see what’s sitting at the top of my kitchen cupboards.
I think part of the problem is that I haven’t really had a place of my own for about 2 years. Maybe I should take this as an opportunity to finally create an organizational paradigm for my life.