Ugh...Tossing 20-Plus Years of Old Receipts and Tax Records

I have been spending the past three days going through six or seven boxes of old tax records and old receipts for shredding.

Why, o why haven't we kept up with this task? It would have been so easy to do this as a yearly task, for example, tossing tax year 1998 in 2005.

Did we really need old receipts and tax records from 1998?

Of course not. However, the attic had been so full that nearly everything behind the first rows were not accessible.

And old receipts and tax stuff had been buried deep.

Finally, I was able to find these old records and papers.

So there's good news from Hoarderville: while the attic is still messy and full, everything is now located according to type and easily accessible for future culling and inventorying.

I have been at this job since October 2011, so I wonder how these hoarding TV shows can clear out an entire house in three days. Perhaps it's because I'm a lone person without a team of enthusiastic tossers.

In any case, I'm not sure I would want a "team" helping me--there is a psychological component to weeding and inventorying that needs to be recognized and honored.

For example, you would not think that tossing bills would bring back memories, but it does: we were so young and poor back in those early days of marriage, and I cannot tell you how many overdraft and dunning notices I found, particularly in the first two years of our marriage, when my better half was taking care of the bills (or not taking care of them). That was a painful time for us, a helplessness caused by a lack of sufficient funds and being seriously in hock to Visa, Mastercard, and Discover, our mean surrogate fiduciary parents.

Once I took over the bill paying, our financial situation changed for the better, but, unfortunately, I tend to be paranoid about what to save and tend to save everything.

I need to rethink that model.

Slowly, our financial situation improved (tremendously--we owe no one and have money in the bank), but it took setting aside money for various purposes (paying off existing debt, saving for the future, setting up a car fund, vacation fund, etc.) and sticking to that plan. I also paid ahead on our mortgage, at first, only a few dollars a month but eventually up to few hundred.

We paid off our 30-year mortgage in 17 years. It helps that better half has a good job with good raises. So I recognize that this exact plan might not work for everyone, but, with discipline, living within one's means is attainable.

Enough, already, with the financial planning lecture.

Our next task:

Old suitcases, which, in our house, seem to reproduce like cockroaches, some of which I will use for storage of my old dolls.

Sunny Day in Hoarderville

I did nothing with The Project today, except to post one list on this site.

Perhaps it has something to do with the lovely weather, a picture-perfect day. Last week, when it was so warm in Hoarderville, I jumped the gun and dragged out my summer stuff, and then it got cold again. I had to go into the off-season closet and rescue a long-sleeved top.

I have actually packed up a lot of boxes, but most of them have not yet been posted here yet. I started organizing in October 2011; much has been inventoried and packed, over 100 containers, inventory lists saved on my hard drive--no wonder why this job seems wearing.

But I fear fire, theft, or some other catastrophe that could possibly wipe out everything we own, including the lists. I do have a fire-proof safe, where I store one of my hard drives, but, still, nothing is ever 100% safe. By posting the lists on this site, we have yet another layer of safety, unless Blogger's cloud goes down AND our house and shed burn down AND our safe doesn't stand up to the heat.

What would be the odds?

Most possessions, if lost, are replaceable, but important papers and family photos are not.

Which reminds me: what are some characteristics of a hoarder or near hoarder?

--Obsessive/compulsive behaviors (varying degrees, some slight, some full-blown--if you have ever seen Monk, you'll understand how paralyzing this behavior can be).

--Perfectionists--this may seem counter intuitive, but sometimes our standards are so high that we decide not to bother, which is why our spaces lapse into chaos. Non-hoarders are willing to settle for "good enough"--pick up quickly and put away-- while we envision House Beautiful. Of course, only the rich, like Martha Stewart and Oprah Winfrey, can afford perfection to that extent. The other 99% of us live in modest digs with those flickering dining room lights and ugly and shop-worn family room rug.

--Over-involvement with possessions and personifying inanimate objects:

I can't throw away this piece of ripped tin foil because I might hurt its feelings or disrespect it.

Silly, I know, but that's something that goes through one's head when holding trash over the garbage. Often, for those of us who just teeter on the edge of hoarderdom, the thought is usually momentary and the foil gets tossed.

--Fear of poverty, past, present, and future. We keep things because we might "need" them later. However, no one needs 35 purses and 50 pairs of socks and underwear. Ironically, hoarding itself can lead to poverty as homes deteriorate into heaps of garbage. My depression-era grandmother used to save rubber bands by slipping them on doorknobs, a habit I have picked up, and I wasn't even around during the depression.

Another story.

--Artistic, creative, and dreamy, which is why we tend to save strange items

Logical: buy new and toss or donate the old.

If only it worked that way...

Hoarderville, U.S.A.

I live in a small city, but I choose not to name it. Instead, from here on in, I will simply refer my locality as Hoarderville.

In a way, the name is apt: people around here hang onto everything and tend to be somewhat provincial. Thrift stores in Hoarderville tend to be less full than in other cities I have lived or visited, the opportunity to find a true treasure at a bargain price more unlikely. Hoardervillens feel strongly about their possessions:

They'll have to peel this broken corkscrew out of my cold, dead hands.

Don't get me wrong; I like where I live, but I'm not native to Hoarderville, and my views tend to be, well, less provincial, and I do let go of obvious junk.

If you have read through some of my lists (brave you!), you will see that, from time to time, I slip out of Hoarderville, bringing home foreign and domestic souvenirs. Why do hoarders feel that they have to bring home a piece of everywhere else?

I honestly don't know. But I'm getting better. On my last trip away from Hoarderville, I brought back only small items--a big improvement over the 10-pound rock I dragged across the ocean eight years ago. (We do have rocks around here, but they're not as pretty or interesting.)

Hoarderville can be anywhere; it's not just my city but any city in the world where crass consumerism is the way of life.

Organizing a Hoard and Fighting Boredom

Today is a rainy, cold day, but at least there's no snow where I live like in some parts of the country. I thought it would be a good day to work on The Project, but I have this feeling of ennui. I did "stage" some boxes (organizing like items together), nothing major. Maybe tomorrow...

Organizing stuff is tedious and boring, and as I look around the house, my efforts don't seem to have made a major difference. But, in actuality, they have.

The attic is less full and boxes still there are roughly sorted by type. But, the truth is, much of it is junk or household items we no longer need. A lot of it should be tossed. The question is, will we be able to toss or donate it?

Yes, clutter is still an issue; if you walked into my house right now, you would see a slightly messy living room with lots of knickknacks and some dust, but you wouldn't find a typical hoarder house with piles of boxes everywhere and garbage thrown around. You would find my dishes washed and put away, and food inventory managed fairly well, with the occasional science project lurking in the refrigerator. Laundry is always done and put away. Once a year, I check canned and dry goods, tossing all expired food (who wants to eat questionable food, anyway? Eeeww!), and I make my husband toss away expired meds. I also go through clothing and shoes and donate what we no longer use. Because if I don't do these basic tasks, it would be a fast, slippery slope to Hoarderville.

Still, we're surrounded by stuff, which tells me that we may be closer to hoarderdom than I originally thought. My better half and I are pack rats, especially books and papers--parting with books is like sending an adult child out on his or her own. You know you have to do it, but you can only hope that you're giving your unwanted books to someone who will appreciate them.

You can't ignore stuff when you're picking it up, packing it, and moving it around; the physical act kicks in that psychological component, a realization that you may be just a few steps away from those people on reality hoarding shows who DO have piles and piles of junk filling every room.

That scares me.