Still Chasing Cutter

Still Chasing Clutter

I’m still working on it, and I probably will be … well, forever. It just seems to be the way I live.

Finishing off the pantry, I found two more partial bags of rice, bringing the total to six. (See Chasing Clutter, 1/4/23.) In my defense, they were small, rolled up into little packets with rubber bands. They were easily lost behind large cans and boxes. But why, I ask myself, were they scattered all over instead of gathered in one spot? Myself has no idea.

Next I tackled the closet in one of the bedrooms. Once that daughter moved out, I started using it for desperately needed storage space. Part of it was reasonably neat, lulling me into thinking that the long upper shelf wouldn’t be too big a job.

I started pulling things off that shelf and they just kept coming, like scarves from a magician’s hat. Soon the queen-size bed was covered. I’ll spare you most of the details, except that I found four shower curtain liners. Four. Clearly, I’d thought it was a great place to tuck away a couple of extras. Then they were pushed aside, hidden by something else, and I forgot all about them.  Why else would I continue to buy more? About a month ago, when I wanted to change the liner, I bought a new one.

I gave two to my husband for his next painting project and squeezed the other two into the linen closet, which is where I would expect to find them. If it ever occurs to me to go look.

After I’ve sorted what I need and what I can give away or trash, I invariably end up with items that I want to keep, but that don’t have a logical place to live. So they sit until I figure out the best place to store them, That can take me a while. But my every-other-month cleaners were due, so the leftovers went back into the closet. There’s still work to do, but at least now there’s room to work in there.

No wonder I’m never done.

I’ve read about the One Touch method of maintaining a tidy home. It’s simple. As the name says, you only handle each item that comes into your house once, putting it where it belongs. I’ve tried this, but somewhere along the line, I falter and the piles start.

Why, I ask myself, can’t I keep up with the continuing parade of stuff that comes into my home?

Myself still has nothing to say.

I’m going to stop talking to her.