Confessions of a packrat

I am a packrat. I tend to develop odd sentimental attachments to many objects, and I have great difficulty throwing anything away. What if I need it again? That's why I have multiple copies of Charlottetown Festival programs dating from 1995. That's why I have several shoeboxes full of ticket stubs and birthday cards in my closet. That's why I still have every assignment, test, and textbook from my university career. It's a sickness, really.

Last night I tried to put away my Christmas decorations. I couldn't open the door to my storage room because it was blocked by all my stuff. So I took the plunge and attempted to declutter, just a little. I decided I don't need the plastic wrapping my mattress came in last year. Nor do I need a box of burned out candles. And, I decided to throw out my empty boxes.

This, I think, was the hardest part (remember, odd sentimental attachments...). Some of the boxes had been with me since I first moved to Halifax in 2000. They have carried my stuff everywhere. When I was at school, I would keep them under my bed, knowing that at the end of the year, I would load all my stuff in them and go home for the summer. They represent the part of me that still lives in PEI, the part of me that always wants to go home.

That being said, they do take up a lot of space. So, reluctantly, I broke the boxes apart and carted them out to the garbage bin. My storage room is a lot tidier, but I'm still a little sad. Sure, they're only boxes, but they're *my* boxes.

That's enough decluttering for today. Time to soothe myself with some skating (you didn't think I could go without mentioning skating, did you?), Season 5 of 24, and Grey's Anatomy.