Getting rid of clutter is the new workout for everybody staying at home, and whether your guidance comes from Marie Kondo or an overstuffed condo, the act of tackling a pile of stuff guarantees calorie burn and muscle flexing, not to mention new space in which to put more stuff once we start shopping in actual stores again.
I tackled a pile of shoe boxes this week. Why was there a pile of shoe boxes? Because there are two generations in my home: one of the mind that there is a replacement for things, and the other that you never know when you’ll need a good box. When it was over, I had broken down over 20 boxes and found several feet of space, as well as an alarm clock I had considered missing in action for two years. Turns out it was hiding under boxes 12 through 14.
Those boxes were nearly impossible to break down without taking scissors to the corners first. Whatever was done to shore them up for all-purpose handling, it must have been some super strong heavy duty kryptonite reinforced cardboard, or else I’ve become a meek milquetoast at my age. No, can’t be, since I can lug around trash bags weighing as much as the local fourth grader. Of course, the only problem with having finished this task is I no longer have the boxes to do a second workout. The reward is the calories burned and the space obtained. Plus an extra clock.
Along with the boxes, I found about a hundred plastic shopping bags. You never know when you might need a bag, or 100. Herding bags requires checking each one to make sure there is no receipt inside, which would give away not only what you bought, but how many years ago it was. Admittedly some of the store names are of ghosts of businesses past. I think there was a Walden books in there. At least a book wasn’t in with it.
Of course you can’t put plastic bags out with the trash, nor can you put out shredded paper. My current dilemma involves the tissue paper which came out of those 20 shoe boxes. Is tissue paper recycled, or landfill fodder? The local website is not helping much, because the answer is hidden at the end of a video game-like quest of clicking around for a length of time I don’t normally have.
At least I know I can bundle the shoe boxes with the newspapers and cardboard for pickup, and the local supermarket will take the plastic bags. Maybe by trash day I’ll have figured the tissue paper out. I’d reuse it the next time I need a good box, but it has the name of the shoe manufacturer on it.
Unless I’m giving shoes as a present, in another box, it’s going out. And yes, I thanked them for their service before letting go. Marie Kondo would be proud of me.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog 