I swear—there was a time it was organized.
When we first moved into our house three years ago, I took one look at our unfinished basement (800 square feet of empty space!) and was confident I could keep it under control. We didn't have that much stuff to store, right?
I was wrong.
While I want to blame the kids, I fear that it's not just them—there's something about suburbia that lends itself to a hoarding mindset.
Yes, we may need that bassinet again. But the tennis racquets I haven't used for six years? Or the third acoustic guitar? Or the 25 folded-up cardboard boxes?
Not sure about those.
But there we were! And then I was this morning, surveying the scene—boxes and other junk littering the basement as if in an attempt to make the space feel more crowded than it actually was.
When asked why he wanted to summit Mt. Everest, Sir George Mallory opined: "Because it's there." Faced with the question of why I keep putting random stuff that I don't actually need, I'd answer the same way.
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