I was just sitting down to do reading when I realized it was getting late, I was getting tired, and I hadn't tackled anything on this stupid decluttering to-do list yet. I almost said "screw it-- I don't care, nobody cares-- it doesn't matter." I hereby admit to being in an apathetic, slightly down mood today-- not just the usual lazy. Then I remembered something from the book The Four Hour Body, a line that should've been obvious to me before I read it, "Practice is something that you do even when you don't want to." Honestly, this concept was foreign to me. I've never taken piano lessons or been on a sports team. I've never really gotten super good at anything. I've always either only done something when I wanted to)*, or done it ouf fear of humilation (practised something so I looked competent in front of others). Decluttering my house is something that I'd like to be good at, but I never have been and had sort of resigned myself to always be terrible at, as I've failed every time I've seriously tried to improve, thus assuming that it was a lost cause.
Anyway, I actually got up, full of bile and spite and cleaned out two more drawers of the godforsaken plastic set of drawers pictured above, swearing and hating it under my breath as I did it. Do I feel better now? Nope, but it sure is done for the day.
1) Drawer full of pretty paper and images from magazines for cards/labels, etc. 2) Stickers. Years and years of accumulated stickers. Oh, and magnets from which I'll make cooler magnets.
3 down, 3 to go.
*I may be being slightly hard on myself as well as exaggerating slightly here, but not much.