Cluttered Mind...

For me, a cluttered house equals a cluttered mind. I know that might sound strange to some of you, especially to my sister, because she is a hoarder, and for all hoarders please do not take offense. I can not think when my house is cluttered and in a mess. I usually purge and sort all the extra clutter accumulated every January, but this year I missed the chance. This has been my way of starting the New Year for as long as I can remember. Now I am trying to sort and catch up seven months later, and it is overwhelming to say the least. I do not even know where to begin. I set myself up for a lot of frustration because I have to share my walk in closet with my husband. He has no clothes and my stuff is taking over. It's ALIVE! and growing, maybe even growling, oh, wait that's the dog because she is in there too.

I copied this from my son's blog, a quote from an article in a magazine about organization follows. "A perfectly organized closet or drawer is clutter if it is filled with clothes that you haven't worn for years," and clutter doesn't have to be made of stuff. "It can be any obsolete object, space, commitment or behavior that weighs you down or distracts you or saps your energy," she says. "It can be bad habits that take up too much time." When Organizing Isn't Enough, SHED your Stuff, Change Your Life, said Morgenstern and "If you focus on the stuff, you will never ever get organized," says Walsh, author of the bestselling It's All Too Much: An Easy Plan for Living a Richer Life with Less Stuff."

As you can read the italics, that is why I need to de clutter because it does effect my thinking. My feeble attempt to sort has been in force for 5 hours and I am about one third of the way through. The dust is killing me and I hate this chore, but it has to be done. Time out for now, I can't stand anymore of this...let me out! Give me BREAK... ahh, time to play with the dog.

Back to the cave of doom to lurk for clothes that don't fit, clothes that are too worn, and find the stuff that just does not belong in the closet. Odds an ends of strange stuff. How did the vaccum get in here, the ironing board, tennis rackets, fishing pole, shot gun, golf club? My husband must sleep walk in the night and gather all this stuff in the closet?

I am the only one that can do this thing, sort it, fold it, bag it up. Right now my life is not richer with all this stuff and I can't wait to be finished. I have a lot of cleaning to catch up on, and there may not me any hope for me. I live in a insane world with too much junk, and an inate desire for order, to be neat, to control my life. The real challenge for me is to be consistant everyday which I can't imagine that ever happening. If I disapear soon, then please tell my husband that I was last seen in the closet! "Help, I am in the closet!"