Okay, not as melodic as “The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music!” or even as comedic as “The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Griswold!” but nevertheless, it is music to my ears.

Or, rather,  it will be when I actually start de-cluttering. As it is, I’m spending most of my time moving my head around to various angles trying to determine which one produces the least amount of sinus pressure and bloody snot. But I digress.

A few months ago my Best Bud and I decided to have a yard sale this coming spring. Since I have no staging area to speak of, my de-cluttering came to a halt in order to prevent a mental breakdown. However, with absolutely no effort on my part, my tiny little basement “get rid of” pile continued to grow on its own – and at an astounding rate. (Where does this crap come from???) Lately the pile has come dangerously close to what I like to refer to as The Freak-Out Point.

Then, a wonderful thing happened. During an email discussion of an unrelated event, the Best Bud and I touched on the yard sale topic. She asked if she could bring things to my staging area. My head almost exploded. When I had collected myself, I responded with an alarming and vividly detailed account of the current states of both my basement and mental health. We cancelled the yard sale and agreed to donate our stuff.

Free at last, free at last!

I have to say, I didn’t realize how much the idea of having yet another yard sale was weighing me down until we canceled it. I would have celebrated by skipping through a field of daisies if it weren’t for a) it is the middle of winter and there aren’t any fields of daisies nearby, and b) I can’t breathe, much less skip. Instead, I celebrated by swiping a bunch of cardboard boxes bound for recycling and took them home to fill for donating. 

Now all I need to get this project into full swing are antibiotics and someone willing to load the truck…Honey, got a minute?

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