The Roomcleanopocalypse

So, when I was three or four years old my dad threw a tantrum about the state of my room (because, oddly enough, toddlers don't tidy) and went through it with a bin liner, thereby instilling in me a lifelong fear of throwing anything out.

Thanks, Dad.

As a result, now that I have to downsize when I move out, there aren't enough charity sacks in the world.

Over the past few months I have chucked:

• Three, soon to be four bin liners full of clothes


• Two charity sacks full of empty ringbinders and notebooks (and I still have a mountain of the latter to wade through)


• A bin liner full of DVD cases (kept the DVDS, just chucked the cases to make space. Will probably do the same with Big Finish in the future)


• Boxes and boxes of books

And you still can't see the floor properly. Partly this is because the horrible placement of my fitted wardrobes means that, if I want to be able to see what garment I'm holding, I pretty much have to use a laundry basket instead. There's plenty of new space in trunks and on shelves, just... nothing's coming off the floor. Yet.

And yeah, I'm hating it. Seeing a clean floor after I tidy isn't rewarding for me, it's scary and unpleasant. But at least I can now stand to have a charity sack in my room without crying, so that's definitely an improvement over my seven-year-old self.