Friday, October 24, 2014

Where Does Crap Come From?

Where exactly does crap come from?

I've mentioned before that I'm in a constant struggle between my inner packrat and my desire to live a minimalist life.

I claim that my packrat tendencies are hereditary. 
My paternal grandparents are Hoarders.
Piles of stuff everywhere.  Everywhere.  
Every conceivable surface has a pile on it.
And piles on the floor too.  
There are paths through their house.
Get the picture?

Contrast that to my mother-in-law who has multiple empty rooms in her house.
Not just void of piles, but empty of everything.  No Furniture.  Nothing.
It's amazing.

As I look at our basement, I see a Packrat. 
No Minimalist in sight.


Ick.



Double ick.
(Although the golf clubs are legit.)

So where the hell does all this come from?
Here's my top 5 identified sources.


 1. Pipe Dream Crap.
Not pictured in the above snapshots are
my bike, Adam's bike, a bikerack, 2 helmets, and a bike pump 
all from back in our dating days when Adam and I struggled with ways to fill our weekends (HAHAHAHA!) and decided biking would be fun.
Guess what?  We aren't bikers.
Plus my bike is from middle school and its 2 sizes too small for me.


2. Infant Gear Crap.
The biggest pile in the second photo is infant gear.
Infant car seat.  Bouncer. Rock N Play.  Exesaucer.  Swing.  
I suppose this is 'necessary' crap for when/if/when we have a second child.
In the meantime though, it's our biggest culprit.


3. One Time Use Crap.
One time I bought a plastic drink dispenser because I wanted to make pineapple-infused vodka for a tailgate.  It was delicious and we got raging drunk.
I've never used it again. 
Adam also went through a "whey protein" stage and got this MASSIVE bottle. 
I'm afraid to even see how much is left. 
Anyone want some free whey protein?  Ick.


4. We-Might-Use-It-Again-Someday Crap
I fall for this lie every. time.
We have a pile of tailgate stuff in the corner of our basement.
Chairs. Tables.  Portable grill.  Even a damn tent.
Seriously, we have a toddler and Adam works weekends.
When the hell are we ever going to tailgate again?


5. Sentimental Crap.
Confession: I save every card we get in the mail. 
I save it in those cute photo boxes from Michael's. 
I have a lot of those card photo boxes. 
It seems so awful to throw out a card that someone spent $3.50 on.
But you know what's more awful?  
Having a pile of cards.

Even worse than my own sentimental crap, is someone else's sentimental crap.
Adam has a box of tools from his grandfather.
These tools are ancient.  Which also means they are fantastic quality.
(Back before everything was mass produced in a low-cost factory.)
But Adam will never use these tools.  Ever.
We could sell them.  Any handyman would adore this quality.
But its too sentimental.  Ugh.


So now what?

I don't know.

But you can bet I'm going to make a plan to figure it out.
And when I do, I'll definitely post about it.

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