Spring Cleaning

What psychological condition do I suffer from that makes me unable to dispose of a scarf I didn’t wear last year, odd socks and some make up that doesn’t suit me? (A lip pencil that’s so close to my own lip colour it’s invisible.) Or a tablecloth, an entire set of ‘good’ cutlery, and even a perfectly good chair. (We have in our house 14 chairs. Eight that go with the (now too big) dining table, one I upholstered myself (obviously I can’t give that away) and the rest… well… they’re very nice that’s all And if I start on the kitchen I get more irritated at my surprising ability to stock up and hoard. Soup galore, six different kinds of rice, cup-a-soups which expired in 2006, What in God’s name is this about?

I’ve got an Ikea ‘Moppe’ and ‘Knuff’ for small storage solutions and two ‘Moppe’ drawers are full of pens and pencils. Many with leads that break when you sharpen them or try to draw with them.

Writing this isn’t helping. I’m becoming more aware that I am ill. Buying, storing, not using and then finding alternative places for my useless stupid things must be a condition with a name.

But on closer analysis, I see the problem. Spares. I have a set of cutlery. (Everyday use.) I have another set (a better-looking set) but then I have a set which is for ‘best’. It’s too good. We don’t know anyone worthy of bringing it out.

I’ve got pyjamas and spare pyjamas and then spares identical to my favourite ones. I bought three industrial sized bottles of shampoo because they were on offer. And I have four stove-top coffee pots. WHY? Why do I do that with my things? I don’t do it with music.

Although… I’ve got a record of Jeff Beck. Then I got it on tape (when I had a car with a working tape deck.) CDs came out, so I got it on CD, Now… I can’t play any Jeff Beck on any format.

Do these duplicate buys count in sales for the artist? It might mean that today’s artists sell to one third fewer people but sell the same thing three times to one person… Don’t know.

The difficulty in sorting is the doubt: ‘Will I regret giving away that studded belt that makes me look like a cross between a biker vampire and Calamity Jane? Or that vase which is too wide and too shallow to be any earthly use?

I can’t bear it. I want to put my whole house in a charity shop.

But… giving it away isn’t the solution. All I’ll do is replace the horrible useless heap of stuff with more stuff. Different pencils, different jumpers or vases.

So, on I go. Painfully looking at things I bought a long time ago. ‘Ah, I remember that. I love it.’ (100% wool, short-sleeved turtleneck top.) The weather’s never been just right for this top. Too hot for summer, short sleeves stupid for winter.

I need a will of iron to complete this chore. (I’ve probably got one of those somewhere. Along with a spare…)

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