...a totally organized house.
Maybe I'm OCD on top of everything else, but I can't stand the clutter and random single socks and piles of papers in my home.
I dream of the junk man coming to take away random crap I find in the basement or the dreaded "spare room."
I long for a clean work surface upon which to write and clear my thoughts.
I wish for bigger closets to contain my shoe collection. (oops.) There's no room in a closet for my boots so often they're strewn across the bedroom floor, like I'm a messy teenager again. Where's my Duran Duran poster, while I'm at it?
What's keeping me from getting it done? Partly it's because there's just too much stuff... stuff I may refer to on occasion or stuff I may use once a year. Or stuff that is sentimental. Stuff from my Grandma, my great aunt, my childhood -- stuff I'd let myself feel guilty for getting rid of, but I just can't keep it all. I have letters that I wrote to my parents when I lived abroad. I have all the cards my mom received from friends and family upon my birth. What do I do with this growing collection of stuff, no matter how cool it is to see? What if I find that missing sock?
Would my happiness of a cleaned out house outweigh the guilt?
I often think, in my sometimes-depressive state, what happens when I die? Who would be stuck cleaning up all this stuff? I don't want anyone to be stuck with it. At that point, it will all end up getting trashed anyway so why not trash it now?
Have you cleaned out and simplified?
p.s. I'm also dreaming of a time when I ask fewer questions on my blog.