Death by Paper

Okay, I’ll admit it. I have a problem. That’s the first step, right? To admit that you have a problem? My issue is this…I save stuff. I suppose I’m what some people would call a packrat (though I kind of resent being compared to a rodent.) 

My tendency to keep things is definately lessening as I grow older…that’s for sure.  Even so, every time I go home for Christmas, I’m reminded how bad I used to be when my mom has me drag out my big rubbermaid containers of “memorabilia” to throw things out. I’ve drastically reduced those items over the years to only the most important things…like every letter I’ve ever received kept in a pillow case decorated with the signatures of a youth group I left behind when I moved somewhere…in puffy paint, of course, postcards from our family trip to Niagra Falls when I was deathly ill with pneumonia, a few cheer cards from my days as a cheerleader, and lots and lots of Nancy Drew books. But to be fair, I’m saving those for a reason…to pass the adventures of Nancy, Bess, George and Ned on to the next generation. They’ll thank me later.

I’ve moved a lot since I left college.  And each time, I purge myself of items that accumulate.  I know you don’t believe me, but I really am making advances. For instance, I no longer feel the need to collect thimbles from every state I visit, I don’t have a knick knack shelf, and I realize Kim Anderson decorations were a phase and that all those flowers I dried really did me no good, so I’m not doing that anymore.

One area, though, that I have yet to conquer is my mail. I get a lot of mail. How do these organizations get my address? Stacks and stacks of mail. Bank statements, credit card applications, informational flyers, statements from my insurance company, the list goes on and on.  (Okay, I know how some of the organizations get my address, but still!) I try to keep on top of it, I really do! But when I scoop up the mail I deem unnecessary and head to the shredder, I’m struck with the thought that I might need that mileage statement for some reason this holiday season…or maybe I can read through this flyer or that in my ongoing attempt to be a better citizen of Colorado. Or maybe the interest rate on that credit card would be better than mine, or maybe I SHOULD join the Army National Guard. The list is never-ending…and so are the piles. 

I know I really should come up with a system. It’s the only logical choice to keep myself from death by paper.  But who has the time?


2 thoughts on “Death by Paper

  1. Dad says:

    Hey M,

    How about ?! 🙂 Had I not heard you say you’re getting better, I was going to send you a link to this article:

    Since you have it under control I won’t send it! 🙂

    Disposaphia is hereditary. You get it from your youngest sibling. (I call Brittany’s car, “TCOW”). Any guesses on what TCOW stands for? Well, I’ll tell ya…Trash Can on Wheels! That’s what her car is…! 🙂

    Seriously, all kidding aside…great post!

  2. katie says:

    aim – you forgot to mention the million binders full of school notes from your entire educational careers. those did NOT get cut in your last move. and i should know as i participated in carrying said binders from old house to new house.
    and i totally relate to the mail thing – i feel makes advances to take over our dining room table everyday!

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