Now Where Did I Put That Flame-Thrower?

I had really good intentions for my day today. I was going to go to the Department of Motor Vehicles and finally get my New York driver's license and my New York license plates.

My husband, naturally, has already done that. So I called him to ask for directions and he reminded me that the DMV is going to make me turn in my Texas special-edition "Share the Road Y'all" Lance Armstrong license plates (Mother's Day present c. 2006) and that he'd dug out an old set of Texas plates for me to turn in so that we could keep the Lance ones. Because that is very important to US, you betcha.

So, I came back home to find those plates. And I looked and I looked and I looked. I looked through whole rooms full of mementos that I will scrapbook someday if I am fortunate enough to live to be 8,000 years old. I looked through stacks of my children's artwork and journals that I can't bear to part with, receipts for things I bought back in 1980, notes to myself of things I needed to do for work --you know, when I had a job.

Boxes. And. Boxes of it.

Don't believe me?

I looked in boxes in my office.







I looked in boxes that wouldn't FIT in my office:



I looked through the stacks on my desk:


I looked through the stacks of stuff on my bookshelves.

I looked through the stacks of disorganized sh..stuff in my garage.

I used some language unbecoming to a woman of my breeding and stature. (Oh, hush. As long as I'm having delusions, they might as well be delusions of grandeur.)

I got, really, really, really mad at myself. I realize now why Ana's compulsive collecting of everything makes me so crazy. It's because I have seen the future and it is I.

Because, see, I know just what happened to those dang license plates. I bet you a ton of money that we were about to have guests over and I went through with my cardboard box and stashed all the clutter for another day. Because that's what I do now. Because that's what I've become:

Yes. It's true. My name is Barb and I'm a Crap Stasher.

And then I went upstairs to make the beds and I saw that there is a new sign on Jane Cooper's door:

Me, too, Sweetheart. Me, too.

Comments

Marie said…
I still have my California plates, Florida didn't make me turn them in.
Kathy said…
Oh. My. Goodness. How is it possible that you and I are so alike and yet so......polar opposite. I'm grabbing my garbage bags and I'm comin' over!!
Aaargh! My eyes! You hurt my eyes!

I hate clutter. But I am still drowning in it.
Barb said…
I must say, y'all are not really making me feel much better. I was kind of hoping for a "Dude, you just moved! You haven't had TIME to get all your clutter properly organized yet! Go eat some chocolate, you'll feel better!"

No?

Damn.
Becca said…
moving just sux. i have pledged never to do it again. if living in another house becomes abolsutely necessary i will just buy everything new and have it delivered and leave this one to fester.
Amanda said…
I can make you feel better!

I moved from Australia to the US in 1998.

I have some boxes in my attic from that move.

I live to serve! (but not to actually put stuff away you understand, just serve.)
The first step is to admit your problem.

Looking around my room, I now realize that I am a crap stasher too.

You're not alone.

(Um, ahem... "Dude, you just moved! You haven't had TIME to get all your clutter properly organized yet! Go eat some chocolate, you'll feel better!")
Ei said…
I'm all for the chocolate plan. And wine. And I think I want Jane's sign for myself.
michelle said…
You know I am all about that chocolate plan...I still have boxes, still have a Virginia license plate and I have a kitchen with half of the wall paper removed. Feel better yet? I think I need some wine myself!

Love ya!
Barb said…
No, Michelle, that doesn't make me feel better because you failed to mention you have a new, and sort of unexpected) baby!

(I say that not in the "my stomach hurts, oh my gosh, look, a baby!" sense but in the "I'm done having children now so I think I'll give away all my baby stuff and pack my family to move across the country" sense.)
LaDonna said…
OK, I'll make you feel better. I've lived in my house for nearly 18 months now and I STILL cannot park my car in the garage because it, too, is full of crap. Yes, Barb, I am also a member of the Crap Stashers Guild.

So give yourself break and go have some chocolate. And a glass of wine if that's your preference...for me, I'll take a quad venti skinny vanilla latte.

Oh, and if you find the flamethrower, can I use it when you're done????
OC said…
You have me in a fit of giggles..."Crap Stasher" that is me. I open my cupboards lately and stuff just falls out. My pantry, cans are balanced on cans that are balanced on cans....my bathroom cupboards are exploding. I seriously think there should be a show on HGTV called "crap stashers". I can't stop laughing....