I border on the verge of hoarding. In fact, I don’t watch that hoarder show because I’m kinda scared I might see a lot of similarities between myself and those people.
Yesterday morning, I finished off the last of the orange juice in our fridge and I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. It wasn’t a regular carton, it was a gallon jug. It was heavy, clear plastic with a great handle and I really thought it could be re-purposed. So I left it sitting on the countertop.
When I came home from work, it was in the pile to go out to the recycling bin. I pulled it out and told Brian that it was a great container—did he think we could use it for something? It would be great to use to fill up the dog’s bowls (even though we have a perfectly good hose) or keep in the car in case of a breakdown (which Brian reminded me—we live in the city—there are people around and I probably won’t be in a place where there is no water).
As I was talking, between hearing myself and seeing his face, I realized…I might be a hoarder. After some laughs, I let it go, but later, I noticed that the jug was gone. He had taken it out to the recycling bin. He says it wasn’t to keep me from saving it, but I wonder…
I CAN throw things away—I just choose to keep them around for a while. Nothing gross, just things like shoeboxes, old sour cream containers (which I DO wash out before using) and little pieces of scrapbook paper—things that I truly do use. At least I don’t rinse out my plastic bags and re-use those—that’s progress, right???
I KNOW—I’m on the verge. So for now, I will continue to pick up the 734 pencils I see on my floor each day and place them back in the drawer. And I might re-use a dryer sheet or two. But, I won’t ask to save plastic jugs anymore.
What thing(s) do you save that you would be embarrassed for people to know about? C’mon—it will be therapeutic to spill the beans…