Quick note-slash-big announcement: I’m on Hollaback Health today in the first of a series of regular posts on how to improve your writing! Head on over and find out why writing matters so much–and why I just NEED to get up on a soapbox and make us all better bloggers.
This weekend, I confirmed a fact that I already knew beyond a reasonable doubt: I am a Class A hoarder.
I don’t hoard junk that would land me on those ridiculous TLC shows. I just hoard non-perishable food items and fabrics. You know, the usual stuff.
The worst part is that I know that I do it. In fact, I recognize the process:
- A fancy can of something interesting or an insanely bright piece of fabric (usually cotton–let’s keep it real) catches my eye. I get so excited I have to buy it (usually because it’s both special AND cheap) and I yammer to the salesperson about it as I purchase it. I can tell they all roll their eyes when I walk out of the store.
- The purchase turns out to be SO special that I just can’t bring myself to open it or cut into it. I set it aside for the right dinner/occasion.
- The right dinner/occasion never comes.
- Fast forward a few months/years and I’m unearthing eight cans of chickpeas and a jar of sweet and spicy jalapeno jelly/ X cuts of fabric from the depths of my kitchen/sewing mess.
- Cue shame–but cue indifference, too, because by the time I dig it out I’ve moved on to other, more exciting finds.
And so it goes.
I usually don’t feel guilty for it, except for when I do, and today is one of those days, sadly. So, in the interest of not humoring my compulsions, I hereby announce that I will refrain from multiple-can purchases of beans until I’m down to just two cans of chickpeas (two being the amount of cans that I end up using any time I use beans–helps me make leftovers). I will also refrain from buying any more fabric until I’ve dealt with at least three of the cuts of fabric I’ve squirrelled away.
Honestly, inspiration has struck in a million different ways for each of these beauties. I just have to simmer down and make a decision and get on with my bad sewing self:
Clearly, I have a problem–and some sewing to do.
This De-Hoarding Measure does not mean that I can’t evade my own rules by making bean-free dishes and chopping up my curtains to make my own Hostess With the Mostest/Trophy Wife version of this Anthropologie dress:
Convincing reasoning, no?
Are you a ruthless de-cluttering machine, or do you hoard things like the world is ending tomorrow? What is your hoarding poison?