The difference between me and a hoarder is…

Sometimes I’m not sure. I’m more of a collector, or so I tell myself. And I have sentimental attachments to objects that seem to have meaning. Assigned by me, no doubt.

I decided I’d gone too far in my closet when it was getting to where it was just solid clothing with paths among it. It got that way partially because the contents of the “holiday closet” got shoved in there when the air conditioning unit was being worked on and no one put the boxes and weird foam mattress pad back.

That made it harder to hang clothing…and ugh. I also had been putting off my annual clothing purge, because I knew there would be things that had to go but meant a lot to me at one time (silly shirts I bought just to support a store, and horse show attire I’ll never wear again, for example). It’s my fault it’s painful; I need to get over my sensitive self.

But, as I’ve mentioned, I got the process started last week and have made good headway. I have one whole side of the hanging clothing thinned out. I need to make space so I can rearrange clothing by my idiosyncratic categories.

I still need to get the long wall of hangers sorted. I think there’s very old clothing Lee has brought in from storage, which also explains why I feel like a hoarder. Two separate wardrobes are crammed into one closet (albeit a very large closet). And I have always collected t-shirts. I think them, and more magically appear with funny bird sayings and such.

I’m posting about this to keep myself accountable. Ow that I’ve shared my project, I hope I’ll be more encouraged to complete it. And I know the local thrift store will be pleased. I have two more very large boxes for them. I’m not a hoarder, I guess. I just make piles and cull them.

My tooth still hurts a bit. I hope the dry socket didn’t dry out again.