My donation box, my very messy and I-probably-can’t-lift-that heavy cardboard box of just some of our excess belongings. I have to tell you we’ve taken two car loads to the charity shop already, and we are nowhere near finished.
I feel lighter, yet the burden of knowing that it’s the tip of the iceberg is rather daunting.
Now it has just occurred to me that my lifelong habit of procrastination is another symptom of a hoarding personality. Put off dealing with that bill, applying for that visa (oh, that’s a whole other story, I could write a book about my passport, citizenship and visa debacles), all the ‘I’ll deal with that later’ clutters up later.
Before you know it, there are dozens of things you need to take care of urgently, which adds to stress and has the knock on effect of meaning that today’s small things will become tomorrow’s emergencies.
It’s like hoarding responsibilities, little jobs that, if done now will simplify later. Dealing with mail, emails, cleaning tasks, whatever it is, dealing with them now can be like a weight lifted. Leaving them to fester, as I do, just means when I finally get a few hours at home, there are many tasks waiting to be dealt with.
The *thief of time? Maybe it’s hoarding.
*Amended typo. Colour me horrified, being a card carrying member of the Grammar & Spelling Police.