Bless This Mess

Sometimes, I'm struck with the overwhelming desire to ... simplify.

(Simplify is a nice word for "THROW STUFF AWAY.")

I have some things coming up in my world that mean that I need to rearrange ye olde homestead, so I thought, Well, this would be a great time to do the nearly annual purging of the apartment.

Yeaaaaaaah.

So far, I have ... let's see ... 12 bags of stuff for goodwill/ donation. I've been to the dumpster countless times, I've filled four space bags, and ... that's just from my bedroom. While I'm not questioning my ability to be neat and clean, I AM currently questioning the following:

1) Am I a hoarder?

2) How did I EVER manage to be neat or clean or organized with all of this ... STUFF?

It is a mystery.

So. Anyway. The bags of stuff are piled up in the dining room. This is causing the cat tremendous amounts of angst, as she keeps eyeballing it and then giving me dirty, bitter looks that say "Are we moving again? BECAUSE I HATE THAT" and then running around like a whirlwind before collapsing in a kitty coma on a chair where she can survey the pile upon waking and see if it's any bigger than it was prior to her nap.

It almost always is.

This is partially due to the weather -- I've not been able to get to the donation center -- and partially due to my work schedule, and partially due to the fact that I'm really just in the mood to get rid of all of the things.

Eventually? It's going to be brilliant. Neat and streamlined and brilliant.

Right now? It is a disaster. The only room in the house that doesn't currently feel like a cluttered mess is the bathroom. (I would like to tell you I've not been hiding in there. That would be a lie, though.)

It's going to be awesome.

Right now? It's, um, in transition.

I'm learning to be okay with it.