The Operative Term Being "Things".

I have to start packing. We’re moving into our new home in…possibly 5 weeks. Seven weeks tops.
I’m just thinking I don’t want to be stuck with last-minute crises.

I’ve been throwing away unnecessary things for the past couple of weeks in preparation for Packing Without Hassle, but it seems everywhere I turn there is more shit lying around. It really isn’t that bad, though. It’s not like there are piles of things everywhere. Things are generally in their place, and the apartment is pretty tidy. But there are things hidden in places where I’ve put them thinking you never know this might be useful some day. And in four years living in this appartment, these hidden things are slowly being discovered, one by one.

The hideous wine-bottle-holder thing I got as a present. It’s hideous. (“Oooohhh thanks! Oh look at that! They look like three little Hobbits dressed up like maître-d’s holding up the bottle!”) I’ve never used it, and would not even re-gift it or put it up for sale in a garage sale. The one use I’ve thought of so far for it is that it would be funny to use as a dildo holder. Three little hobbits sitting on my dresser going: “Look! Your dildos!” But that’s just not my thing for now. The scraps of paper I’ve been piling in a box to reuse. Not happening - I don’t use that much paper after all. The piles of magazines I was stashing in my bookcase, taking up room dedicated to books, books piling up elsewhere. Never going to re-read these magazines. Although I did stare at the ones published days after 9/11, wondering whether to hang on to them or recycle. My mom kept newspaper articles after John Lennon’s death and now I have them…Bah. I think the world will do a fine job of perpetually reminding me of 9/11 from now on, so recycle it is. My recycling bin is now obsolete. I need a container. There are pile of things going to charity, things that have lost their twins/partners/sets, and things I don’t know anything about. So many things. That’s just it, though. They are just things. I can get rid of them. Yes, I can.

I think I’ve come to the point where I need to stand up, introduce myself and admit I’m a pack rat. The first step towards healing is acknowledgement, right? Right.
Unless you make or buy pretty boxes to stuff all the things you like to accumulate.
Then, you become an organized pack rat.