Thursday night, I attacked the stack of clothes next to my nightstand. I am parting with the Paul McCartney tour t-shirt I bought back in 2015, but have never worn because it's way too small. Someone else might come upon it and be thrilled. Better they have it than me. (My version of Marie Kondo.)
And I'm getting rid of a mess of mesh laundry bags. Some were way too small for my use. One was gigantic. But I never got rid of them because they were virtually new and usable and it seemed like a sin to add them to the landfill.
I still feel that way. But I feel that way about just about everything. And that's why my home is overstuffed and overcrowded. I'm too picky to use this shit but unwilling to toss it away.
I have to get over that.
I could have written this--except I keep shopping bags with handles (not like plastic grocery bags, but the nice shopping bags). WTF?
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