I am a hoarder. This is a genetic trait that has been passed down from generation to generation since the dawn of man, I'm guessing. Every single one of my family members is a hoarder. I love that A&E has made the disorder a public disease because that show alone has inspired me to throw everything I own away. There are several different types of hoarders according to the show. I'm a moderately bad hoarder. I don't have rotten food and dead cats in with my belongings but I do have age old newspapers with articles in them that I felt like I needed to keep for some reason and trinkets from when I was a kid that bring about a certain kind of nostalgia.
The hoard disease has affected everyone in the family differently. Some of them are organized hoarders, while others, aren't. I'm not organized about my hoarding at all. In any given box I'll have several categories of items ranging from holiday decorations to baking supplies to craft supplies. Just a few days ago, a friend was helping me go through all of my belongings to try and decide what to keep and what to toss. In with my stuff were three separate containers filled with googly eyes for craft projects. I'm not talking thirty or forty googly eyes, it was like four hundred googly eyes. How many pretzel people did I think I'd be able to produce?
Hoarding is a severely entertaining disease. Why I would possibly conceive that I'd need thousands of rainbow colored pipe cleaners, fourteen pairs of scissors, twenty-nine black Sharpies, a stockpile of Easy Bake Oven cookie mix (enough for my kids to play with for the next decade, easy), seventeen of the same size crochet hooks or old AA batteries that may or may not be worth saving in ziplock baggies is beyond me.
I have managed to lighten my moving day load from 27,831 lbs of crap to 27,694 lbs of crap. I'm going to fire up the Easy Bake because I deserve a cookie.
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