I haven't read the de-cluttering book that gives the above advice, but everyone in the world has quoted it to me. We are going to move in a few months back downtown and so I have been chucking out stuff and making trips to the D.I.
Yesterday, I cleaned under my kitchen sink and the laundry room. Why am I holding a full gallon of Spray and Wash? Why would I ever buy a gallon jug of Spray and Wash when the original Spray and Wash is only half empty? On the whole, laundry doesn't interest me much.
It didn't give me joy. So I dumped part of it into the original sprayer and threw out the rest.
Why do I have a gallon jug of hand cleaner? It's orange, ugly and I don't like it. No joy. Throw it out. Two gallons of rug cleaner. Out
800 pounds of wheat from the 1960's that I've kept through all the moves. And still the Zombie apocalypse has not come. I find this hard to dump. It's in these neat tins and we did the whole dry ice thing and the wheat is still good. Keep 100 pounds.
I had a lot of pairs of shoes that gave no joy. I had blouses I hadn't worn in a year. One yellow suit that I wore at Anne's wedding. Out
I have an incredible collection of moisturizers, none of which make me look any younger. Out.
Board games. Throw everything out but Parcheesi. Parcheesi is our game.
How many writing notebooks does anyone need? And yet, they give me joy. Never throw out writing notebooks. Or photographs.
Tom and I will have to duke it out over which books go.
I have given away extra cookwear, a fondue pot with all its forks, extra bowls, a set of IKEA dishes, extra coats and I'm about to give away a bundle of scarves. I love scarves but they make me hot. Same with necklaces.
Out. Out. Out. Then take a cleansing breath.