I know, right. It is amazing how much STUFF you can fit in 1200 square feet. Okayyyyy I admit it, this picture may be slightly misleading seeing how my handy dandy little roll of box number stickers started at 291, but box number 37 sure as hell felt like number 327. Seeing that little 327 makes me feel extremely accomplished and helps me justify having pizza for lunch and dinner.
The downside of 3-digits in relation to box numbers, however, is that it smacks of hoarding and I am anything but a hoarder. Even the word is gross. In fact, I'm going to take this opportunity to advise thesaurus.com to revisit their synonyms for "hoard". "Treasure-trove", really? Don't make me laugh. Also, in the running for understatement of the year: "to put aside for a rainy day". If this what putting things aside for a rainy day looks like then 1. I need to get a move on and 2. they know something we don't.
Oh yeah. That's Gordon and Gaye's BEDROOM before "Hoarders" came and ruined their life's work.
The after shot still makes me cringe. (I don't think those boxes even have numbers on them!!) I can see Gaye being like "Damnit Gordon. I totally thought we had a Queen size bed under there - I'd better unpack some of these boxes".
I haven't even gotten to the worst part yet. And no it isn't that Gordon and Gaye live in Washington state, have two children and seven cats, and are content to use large buckets instead of a toilet.
Oh no. I'm talking about the antonyms for hoard. Squander? Throw away? Waste? I'm really quite offended to be painted in such a negative light. If thesaurus.com had its way, the next time I'm about to empty the vacuum canister into the trash I would hesitate and think "I really should not squander this pile of dirt and dog hair. I should save this and each subsequent bountiful floor harvest for a rainy day and use it to make a pillow." Ew.
I'm proud of my powers of de-cluttering, but there is nothing like packing up your entire life to remind you that it is best not to accumulate the clutter in the first place. Even the best of us can end up with a deceptively large closet that hasn't been opened in months filled to the brim with random (clearly unnecessary!) crap. Box number 328, here I come.
