Clutter and the evil of snooze alarms

27 Mar

I really overslept this morning.

Snooze alarms are of the devil, I tell you.

Just push the little button for 10 more minutes of luscious sleep…push it again…again…Now I am pushing it in my sleep apparently because more than 30 minutes have passed since the alarm went off in the first place.

Usually the dog is all over me the first time the alarm sounds. She is the anti-snooze alarm. But this morning she must have decided she needed some extra winks herself. She left me alone and in my slumber-drunken state, I just kept hitting that button.

Then I had to walk the dog. That seemed to take forever.

By the way, muttering “Poop, dammit!” over and over like a mantra does not speed things along.

On my day off I had planned to really buckle down and get some more de-cluttering done. I say, “some more” because I have been working on this—at least in my mind–for some time now. I recently donated two big bags of clothes to charity. I think I was hoping the good karma I engendered would summon the de-clutter faeries who would magically appear and get things fixed up for me.

Apparently there is no such thing as a de-clutter fairy. Bummer. I really could use some magical something or other because my house looks like an episode of “Hoarders.”

Actually, my house looks like an episode of “Hoarders” ate another episode of “Hoarders” and then threw up.

I am not entirely to blame.

My significant other does not throw away anything. Seriously. He keeps the boxes stuff comes in forever. The keyboard I am typing on–we still have the box. The monitor I am looking at–we still have the box.  I could go on and on with the random box inventory.

That is just the tip of the iceberg. Which is an especially suitable metaphor because cleaning house at my house is always more like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic than it is actually cleaning.

But I didn’t do any de-cluttering over the weekend, despite my best intentions.

Instead we went thrift store shopping. That sounds counter productive, doesn’t it? That’s because it is counterproductive–it most definitely is.

Oh good, I have more shirts! Good thing I got rid of, like, 150 shirts so I could make room for these new ones. Plus, we got a Disco Light. It shoots out multi-color beams and rotates. We’ve been needing one of those.

The Disco Light is still in the box with the Goodwill $1.99 tag. I assure you, whatever we do with that DiscoLight (and there are a million and one possibilities), we will, for reasons unknown, no doubt retain the empty box. Forever.

Maybe the colorful lights will attract the de-clutter fairies and I’ll finally make some progress.

Or not…

No time to declutter now–I gotta get to work.

Happy Tuesday.

One Response to “Clutter and the evil of snooze alarms”

  1. Lisa Guimond March 27, 2012 at 8:28 am #

    Awwwww… I completely understand holding onto the original boxes for things.

    During our first or second cross-country move, one of the packers advised me to always hang on to the boxes because nothing they can do will ever be better than the original packaging that certain things (electronics, crystal, appliances, etc.) came in – after all, that packaging WAS designed for that product, wasn’t it? So, for the last 20-odd years, I have had boxes full of boxes stashed away in attics and garages. Made my husband completely nuts (until it was time to move again, then he was thrilled that our stuff had a measurably better chance of arriving at our new home all in one piece.)

    Yesterday, I spent the better part of the morning scanning UPC codes and photographing Waterford boxes to add to our household inventory. And then – *gasp* – I broke the boxes down and put them all into the recycling bin.

    His retirement from so many years in the Marine Corps certainly has caused us to make some big adjustments; first chin hairs and saying farewell to weekly trips to the barber shop and now box disposal and selecting personalized stationary and luggage tags! Be still, my heart!

    Admittedly, it felt strange to be tossing those boxes away after all these years. But then a strange thing happened: not only did I feel like a weight was literally lifted from my shoulders, I felt like roots were actually beginning to sprout – right here in our new house. I felt like I was actually home.

    I liked it.

    Happy Tuesday, Bill!

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