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The Art Of The Enforced KonMari

Right now, I’m in the middle of trying to pack up everything I own, as I’m about to move house at the end of the month. I haven’t moved house in nearly 10 years, so there’s all kinds of things I’m having to lug about, sort, and pack into boxes before I can leave this house. Right now, it’s basically hell.

I’m basically undergoing an enforced KonMari session, except that session is going on for weeks and it isn’t really about what ‘sparks joy’ for me. Instead, it’s looking at an item and asking, ‘Can I physically be arsed to pack this up, move it somewhere else, and find a new home for it once I’ve moved it?’

The answer, often, is no.

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If I don’t want it anymore, then I have to find somewhere new for that item to live. Usually, we’re forever getting charity bags through the door. These bags ask me to fill them up with items I want to donate, and then leave them outside on a specific day so they can take them away. It’s a good deal if you’re trying to have a clearout. Since Christmas, we haven’t had a single bag through the door.

Typical.

Luckily British Heart Foundation let you order charity bags on their website, and you can order almost as many as you’d like. You can fill them up, and then give them a ring to come get them. Cheers, British Heart Foundation.

I’ve filled up some bags with the smaller items, and then booked a collection for them and some larger bits of furniture that need to go before we move. This was kind of last ditch, because first I tried selling them, or giving them away, online. I don’t know what it is about online trading sites, but they’re packed full to bursting with time wasters. Has anyone actually ever successfully got rid of something online? Either the item just goes unnoticed, or people promise to come collect it, and then leave you waiting in for nights on end. No, I’m no bitter or anything.

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I’m trying to give away as much as I can because I don’t want to be shoving stuff into the landfill, but despite my best efforts, there’s still plenty of rubbish I need to get rid of. Not having a car, I can’t simply rock up to the tip and throw it out. If I want to book a council collection I’m going to have to shell out for it, and moving is expensive enough as it is. Luckily, a friend has offered to take me but she can’t do it until next week. In the meantime, the house is piling up with bin bags that need throwing away.

Why not throw them away with the regular rubbish? Well, I would, but we have a wheelie bin that we can fit about 4 bags into, and no more. We’re not allowed to leave more bags, so I’m pretty much out of luck. The real kicker? The refuse workers are going on strike as of Monday. I’m not going to start in on them for wanting better wages, but their timing could not be worse.

The upshot of all this? I’m up to my eyeballs in boxes and bin bags, trying to get somebody, anybody, to take all this stuff away from me. Maybe I’ll sell everything, buy a caravan, and drive off into the sunset. Anything’s better than trying to clear out the attic.

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