The other night, Oz wiped the hard drives on the old computers and the very next day he carried them and the two monitors off to Goodwill. Then he put all the packaging for his new machine into the trash and recycling. No one would say that the office looks streamlined, but it does look less like a junkyard.
Still on a closet-cleaning roll, I cleared out the brimming cabinet in the bathroom and tossed everything which was past its expiration date. Two grocery bags of nasty old bottles of unguents and what-all ended up in the supercan. The coupons with the 2006 expiration dates which have been sitting on the windowsill for the past year? Also in the trash.
But still …
Last night Oz came into the sitting room and said, "We have less crap in the house. But we still have a lot of crap."
"Yes, we are by no means crap-free. We are nowhere near to having a crap shortage." In fact, since I have been focusing my efforts on closets, the crap reduction is mostly not apparent at all.
I'm going to tackle another closet today. In the meantime, my office mocks me. All my decluttering efforts are mere procrastination in the face of the office's foot-high stacks of paper and shelves jammed with notebooks.
If, like me, you're interested in things too small to clutter your house, the Washington Post Arts Beat column visits a teeny tiny gallery at VCU.
247 words | June 28, 2007 09:16 AM | Real true story