Here it is- practically half-way into
the month of January and I've defaulted
on most of my plans to become a more
With me, I think it's a disease.
Pack Rat Syndrome.
Something physically keeps me
from throwing away junk mail
and tossing old magazines.
A possible chemical imbalance
allows me to store them up
like a little nest-
that I cram into the branches of my closets
and drawers till they bulge.
I need help.
So, I have only added to the problem
by buying more magazines and
attaining more literature
that claim they can solve my clutter.
It is humanly possible. IF you are made of money.
Those cute canvas bins are $6 each.
I need about twenty.
The closet organizers?
You're talking in the hundreds of dollars.
Even Rubbermaid totes are getting
and what do you have when you fill one of those?
A giant plastic tote that won't fit
in your closet or under the bed.
You are basically back to Stage One.
One of my country magazines
suggests filling old muffin tins
with paper clips and push pins,
recycling gym baskets for files,
and mounting an assortment
of old doorknobs for hooking
umbrellas and aprons.
If I had a muffin tin on my desk-
it would be filled with everything-
running over and spilling into
the gym basket that is holding files,
scrap paper, old newspapers,
dirty socks, and candy wrappers.
My door knobs would have hoodies,
purses, spatulas and keys weighting
them down till they sag.
I need to assert myself
and begin a cleansing process.
I need to take each drawer-
one by one-
each closet, step by step..
Each nook and cranny-
and rid them of their
psychological influence on my life.
I love seeing the new spring ideas-
bright colors and fresh linens-
But first I'll have to
sweep out the winter doldrums.
I look around my house today.
A little sunshine
and a lot of elbow grease
is the perfect medicine for
Pack Rat Syndrome.
And I need a transfusion -quick.
I'm sicker than I thought!