I came into this world as a confirmed pack rat. I hated to let go of anything that I thought I might want, need or simply die without in the next, oh, fifty years. Thankfully, I was derailed from my path of finding future fame as a star of Hoarders by the simple act of moving out of my parents’ house and into my first apartment. An entire zoo’s worth of stuffed animals and every book I ever owned were simply not going to fit into a 500-square foot studio.
I am still a zealous convert to the Church of Our Lady of Decluttering. I love the feeling of lightness after discarding useless kitchen gadgets (RIP electric mango peeler) and hideous articles of clothing that I’d like to think I bought while under the influence of psychedelic drugs (nope, I just had reeallly bad taste). And I almost never regret getting rid of things.
Except when it comes to my writing.