My friend and morning drive DJ on Mix 107.9 (and the best wedding DJ in the whole wide world), Mark Dantzer, posed a question on his Facebook page yesterday. Apparently, January is “Get Organized” month and Mark wanted to know the most ridiculous thing readers refuse to get rid of.
I suspect he was waiting for people to rat out their spouses. Like a wife to complain that her husband won’t part with the mottled deer head he found in a dumpster back in college and hung on his living room wall until he got married, but which is now shoved in some remote corner of the basement.
Or a husband to complain about the 300 pairs of shoes his wife has stuffed in her closet even though she never wears half of them because they hurt her feet or have broken heels, but she won’t part with any of them because they remind her of fun times and special occasions in her life.
So did I write something about my dear husband? No. Could I have written something about the many boxes of junk, er, treasures that Vince won’t part with? Sure.
But, sadly, I have way too much of my own long-held junk to talk about.
Like, for instance, I wrote on Mark’s Facebook page that I still have my high school cap and gown. Why do I still have my high school cap and gown? I have absolutely no flippin’ clue! It’s not like I need it to prove that I graduated from high school. And it doesn’t even make a very good Halloween costume.
Instead, it has been folded up in a large grey plastic bin that holds cards, letters, high school yearbooks and various other treasures for lo these many years. Okay, to be a tiny bit more accurate – lo these many decades.
The sad thing is, I’ve moved that box with my high school cap and gown, let’s see…no less than nine times. NINE times! No wonder my back hurts.
One time I even tried to get rid of the stuff in that large grey plastic bin. I hauled it out of the garage determined to go through everything in there one more time and then toss it all.
So I spent the next several days on the floor with everything spread around me. I read cards and letters from long-gone relatives and friends I hadn’t seen in years. I leafed through my high school yearbooks cringing at my awkward teenaged self and at the same time wishing I still looked like that. Well, except for maybe the bad Farrah Fawcett ‘do.
But, in the end, I couldn’t part with any of it. Instead, I organized it. I put everything in individual plastic envelopes marked with the year. So now, if I ever want to see something from, say, 1980, I can find it in an instant.
If I could only get to that large grey plastic bin, that is. It’s at the bottom of a huge stack of boxes in the garage that I haven’t actually been able to reach since Vince moved in and piled all his treasures on top.
Ah well. I take comfort in the fact that if I’m ever accused of being a hoarder, at least I can say I’m an organized hoarder!
On the other hand, I’ve seen that show, Hoarders, and, well, let me just say, “Eewwww.” It’s pretty disgusting and my situation is not even remotely close to any of the sad stories on that show. But I use it for inspiration. On Saturday mornings when I don’t really feel like organizing the linen closet or cleaning out the gunk from under the vegetable bin in the fridge, I watch a DVR’d episode of Hoarders.
And afterwards I run around Windexing and Lemon-Pledging like a crazy woman. I surgically attach a large plastic trash bag to my wrist and I load it up with stuff that needs to be purged. I’ve taken so many bags of old clothes, shoes and purses to the donation center, I’m sure I’ve long ago exceeded the annual charity allotment for my taxes.
But talking about hanging on to my high school cap and gown makes me realize I have a way to go on this whole Get Organized thing. Fortunately, Saturday is quickly approaching. And I’m thinkin’ it might be a good time to work on some of those boxes in the garage. It’s perfect timing since I still have to put away the boxes of Christmas decorations. But if I need a little extra inspiration I can always watch this week’s DVR’d episode of Hoarders.
And then maybe I’ll finally toss that old high school cap and gown.
Wonder if Vince would mind if I do a little pruning of his treasures? Like, does he honestly need to keep his dad’s college Chemistry textbook? I can’t see Vince perusing it for a little light reading anytime soon. Besides, I’m thinking that in the 60-something years since his dad was in school, there has been a change or two in the world of Chemistry.
Oh, and do we really need 47 different Phillips head screwdrivers?
Hmmm. Perhaps a marathon Hoarders session might be required. Wish me luck.
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