You Dropped A Bomb On Me

With a move in the not so near (but closer than you think) future, I've been thinking a lot about 'stuff' and how much of it I have. The consensus: I have way too much.

I remember with great clarity what it was like last time (the only time if you want to get technical) I moved. Going from a six bedroom house to a two bedroom fox hole was rough. To add to the tough task, I came a month early, thanks to a job. So I had one day a week those last four weeks to pack. I left close to fifty percent of my belongings behind, but that's okay because if you asked me today what I left, I wouldn't be able to tell you, with the exception of Cherry and County Johnson (childhood items). Even so, with half of my belongings left behind, I still wound up with so many boxes of stuff piled in my new room that day, my uncle commented "You've got way too much stuff". Which at the time shocked me, but now, four years and many shopping excursions later, I realize, I do in fact have too much.

So I've decided to start very early, with the sorting and the tossing and the cleaning of objects that will accompany me to my new home, wherever that may be. I have to think of the obvious choice A as well as a quite possible and nice choice B. Today, being one of the few days between now and April 15th I'll have free, I decided to get a jump on things and go elbow deep into the trenches.

I found myself asking questions like:

"Do I really need 12 pairs of flip flops?" (Nope, 10 will do just fine)
"Do I really need three televisions?" (No, even I can't watch that much tv)
"What about all those DVDs I'm not fond of?" (That'll be dealt with later, once others have had their pick ;)
And quite possibly the most important decision of them all:
"Do I really need Elton John's Greatest Hits (1970-2002)?" (Roger that!)

Four hours and three trips to the dumpster (I won't lie, it was mostly old clothes I hated anyway) later, I found myself glad that I started so early. This is going to take forever. But even if I can't find it in my heart to part with my Skip-It, the very Golden Girl-esque print I keep hidden behind my bedroom door (from the living room of my childhood), the pomegranite trinket cuppy-thing or the ugliest bumblebee statue I've ever seen, that'll be okay, right? Isn't clutter what makes a house a home?