My storage room is trying to kill me

I spent three hours tonight in my storage room puzzling over the random belongings that have been taking up space.

My task seems simple enough:  pack up what we’re keeping and gather what we’re giving away and get rid of it.

I have done this over and over again and every time I go back into the room, I am faced with more stuff.  I promise I am not a hoarder but I cannot give up my piano books or the framed pictures or my box of thread.  For one thing, I’ve been meaning (for years) to paint those frames black and hang up those pictures again.  And what if I get my sewing machine fixed and begin to sew again one day?  What if?

The back of my van is once again full of stuff to drop off at Value Village, including a lovely sturdy metal filing cabinet and a particle board microwave stand.  I found a place that will take an old dead computer and gigantic broken monitor.  Tomorrow morning I must resist the lure of my cozy bed and drop off all that stuff.

I hope that Saturday will be the day I triumph over the storage room.

However, I may not survive Saturday morning.  We have to arrive at the soccer field at 8:20 a.m. for team pictures before the 9 a.m. game.

That is just unkind.

My storage room is trying to kill me

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