Acquired fire hazards (aka: shit people give you)

There are a lot of things I didn't do before packing up and moving.

• That giant box of old papers I wanted to go through? Sitting in the front room.
• Clothes that should have been sorted and sent to the Rescue Mission? Scattered throughout three rooms.
• Old computer monitors/printers/cables I wanted him to find new homes for? Currently surrounding me in the basement office area.
• The Popular Science mags I begged him to sort and toss 16 months ago? Still in the same box they sat in at the other house, only now at this house. And still pissing me off.
• The filing cabinet that holds next to no important papers because they're all in the box upstairs in the front room? Still haven't sorted through the junk we're keeping in there.

 It's an epidemic.
And it needs to stop.

So, with fall in full swing and all my Christmas decorations still in the attic of our previous home, I've started sorting. My desk got cleaned off and moved to the enclosed porch last week with my mom's help and now I actually have a sewing room. Kind of. The kids tricycles and other assorted large toys have created a pseudo minefield that I have to navigate each time I go out there. But at the very least, I have my own space if I need it. And the kids are asleep. Or locked in a closet.

It was a first step, because I have trouble getting motivated to get organized. If I'm not able to focus on something for an extended length of time - aka: "alone time" or more notably "when my kids are off with someone other than me and I have the house to myself" time (which rarely happens) - then a single task could take all day. It's pretty horrible. Or, I need someone to be here to help me and make the experience fun.

You know, because cleaning and throwing my shit away is fun. It's like a day at a theme park and a drunken walk down memory lane all rolled into one. Also consider the possibility of multiple WTF moments if sorting old photos is involved. Spiral perm circa 1993? Got it covered.

I did the whole memory lane thing yesterday, sans photos.

Wedding and wedding shower cards were it. We got married more than five years ago. This is the first time I've looked at these cards since the day we opened them. I'm a big softie and hate throwing anything away that has sentimental value, which explains why I put these cards in a zippered thinger I think housed curtains I bought way back when and stuck them in a closet. And forgot about them. Until we moved.

I went through them. Most were your generic "wedded bliss" type of card, the ones you typically find at the drugstore and Wal-Mart and wherever else you buy cards. A majority had nothing more than a name or names signed at the bottom. How much thought was put into these purchases? Did these friends and family members search high and low for the perfect card for our day? Or did they grab the first one they came across?

I know when I buy cards, I tend to spend a lot of time reading through them all until I can find the one that tells the most about how I feel about whatever situation I'm buying the card for - birthday, wedding, funeral, baby shower, graduation ... And knowing how I approach the card purchasing issue makes me hopeful that all those dozens of cards from my wedding were bought with the same thoughtfulness.

But I doubt it. Because most people don't take that much time. I'm not being cynical. I'm being honest with myself and you. Part of that honesty meant saying screw it, I don't need another fire hazard in this house. I have four years worth of newspapers that give me fire anxiety, I don't need wedding and shower cards, too.

I put all but a handful of them in the recycle bin, attempted to brush the glitter from my hands and wondered why I hold onto things - sometimes ridiculous material things - when I have the memories of that day and the man in my bed each night. I have the bottles of wine he bought me one Christmas, the same wine we had served at the head table, I can sip while enjoying a bon fire with him by my side. I have my wedding gown - fixed, dry cleaned and boxed - that I will someday offer to my daughters for their wedding days.

Why would I need to hold onto cards from friends who don't speak to me and family I never see? They were thoughtful enough to come, or send the card with someone else, so for that I'm grateful, but recycling these things is something I should have done a long time ago.

The ones I saved out are special. Doc and his wife. Our friend Brian who just happened to be visiting family nearby and was able to complete the "friends from college" ensemble. The one that has a handstitched picture on the front from friends of my parents who watched me grow up. I saved the ones that had meaning.

All of the bridal shower cards went to the blue bin.

I found a recipe for chocolate silk pie from one of my childhood buddies. It's been added to the collection.

Eventually, I'll make my way through the baby shower cards, old Christmas card and birthday cards. My parents send cards to the kids for every holiday, and I've struggled recently with the idea of tossing those, too. Let's not forget the wedding response cards I horded, put in a storage bag and hid in a dresser.

Now that I have some of the random piles taken care of, I'm hellbent on going through the box of old papers (Do I have to keep insurance paperwork that only shows the breakdown of what they paid for?) and find the file folders so I can at some point clean out the crap from the file cabinet and put actual files in there. It'll get done. It has to. I have no choice. I hate this cluttered life.

But first, I need to reevaluate some things. Like what I feed my kids for breakfast. Hindsight says spoonfuls of peanut butter and a bag of popcorn weren't my best ideas so far today.