A truck-full of goals?

I hate clutter.

Like seriously, passionately hate it.

Which you would never get by walking through my house. It’s not horrible, I’ve definitely seen worse, but there is enough useless clutter in here to slowly drive me insane. Because of the space issues here and the fact that I’m still bummed about not being able to have a better house, it’s that much worse.

I think part of it stems from the fact that my brain is so ridiculously cluttered with totally random crap that I like being able to clear the physical clutter in my environment so I have at least some sense of control. Which I think I may have already established is a rather important thing for me. The other part of it has to do with my last two years in Florida when I moved no less than 5 times. Every time I moved I got rid of a whole bunch of crap because I just didn’t want to deal with it. And I had stuff under control for awhile… At least in the general areas of the house. The desk and Princess Punk’s area were still hopeless clusterfucks but at least there was some sense of clarity in the rest of the house.

Yeah that looks about right…

Then The Zen Master moved in. And he didn’t have a ton of stuff but his stuff added to my stuff made things a bit tight. And he hoards electronic stuff. He has at least 5 video game systems from a Nintendo 64 to a PS3. And 5 small bookshelves full of video games and DVDs. And 3 computers (I think only one of them actually works). And a Netbook. And various wires and controllers and stuff that I have no idea if it has any purpose at all. And I have way too many clothes, most of which don’t fit me at all. The same goes for The Princess.

So I’m starting to get twitchy.

Therefore, my goal this weekend is to get a truck-full of stuff out of my house and to Goodwill or the dump or somewhere, anywhere that is not here. The idea of a yard sale is highly unpleasant. First of all, you have to DO stuff. Pricing and laying stuff out and then putting back what doesn’t sell which you then have to cart off somewhere anyway.

Um… I think I’ll pass, thanks.

Then the thought of standing around and watching while random strangers pick through my unwanted stuff just makes me feel… skeevy. I don’t really want to see who takes my old rice cooker. I don’t care and I don’t want to try to convince someone it’s a useful item because it obviously wasn’t to me or I wouldn’t be getting rid of it.

Now I just need to get my ass off the couch. I think I need another Redbull.

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