The sorting, cleaning out and re-arranging at this house is ceaseless.
Instead, it's about my everlasting frustration with all of the dinky, dunky, dorky bits of stuff that ooze from the very seams of every closet and crevice. Two years ago this July, we shoved about 80 boxes of stuff up in the attic after going through the first wave of Operation Get Rid of Stuff. Off and on, the boy has been up to scrounge and rummage, mostly for baby & kid things as little ones have grown up and popped out. Now, all of those boxes have come back down. And we are sifting once more.
I derive pleasure from taking bags and boxes to Goodwill, putting baby things away for the last time, and recycling piles of paper. I dislike taking bags and boxes to Goodwill on half-price day (a sale on cheap junk...very popular in this burg apparently), putting certain baby things away for the last time, and having to make decisions about which papers to keep and which are not important though they obviously were at some point.
I can't figure it out. We've been actively working on not only getting stuff out of our house for the past two years but also not bringing stuff in to replace what we remove. How in the Goodwill world does all of this stuff keep accumulating and turning up everywhere? At some point, the sorting and cleaning out just has to stop right? Howsoever, I'm getting much better at removing sentimentality from practical decision making, so that's a plus, right? Gack...I hate piles of unused stuff. It's sorting that is infinitum ad naseum.