Three more trash bags full.
I’m on a roll. I was thinking that if I could fill one bag a day, by June maybe I would be done and ready to move. I refuse to pay someone money to move boxes of trash to my pretty, brand new home. And it doesn’t have a basement, which seems like a good idea to me. No place to put “stuff.” No room for bad memories. No place for past pain and resentments.
This first pass is really about getting rid of the trash. It doesn’t seem so smart to me to try to organize as I go, since I have no idea exactly what will remain in the end. I am loosely collecting like items in containers to go through later for another pass… papers, kids’ toys, craft supplies, keepsakes, clothes, and junk, junk, junk.
It’s overwhelming, but it hurts so good to let go.