The room that does not spark joy
I think everyone right around the world, has that ONE top drawer in the kitchen/guest room/garage that is just full of crap.
A box/drawer/room that causes a twitch in your right eye every time you walk past, but not enough that you actually do anything about it.
Boxes of miscellaneous crap that you know needs to be sorted, but you just can’t seem to get around to find the time.
We call this our entire basement. Since moving in nigh on 10 months ago, we’ve been living primarily out of moving boxes that can be found scattered amongst our fuse box, heating system and an extra freezer that was left here by the previous owner.
We had always planned to unpack, but a glass of red and Netflix always seemed like a much better option. I’d walk past the basement door, think about sorting it out, then go and ferment something or pick quinces. I mean, why ruin the fun of the furious flurry of pulling out everything in ALL OF THE MOVING BOXES coupled with some good old-fashioned road-trucker swearing, whenever we needed something.
Some months it would seem like we were making progress. Once, we were gifted some shelving that would at least mean that we had somewhere to put things. We pulled everything out of the basement and put it in the living area. Then, we moved it all back in. Unsorted, in boxes. The gifted shelves are still standing bare, mon frere.
Or like when I categorised the moving boxes – kitchenware in the back left corner, kids winter clothing in the top right box near the freezer – but watch your head because all the crap sitting on top of the freezer will fall down on you if you meddle with our fantastic tetris system.
Oh and what gold I have been finding whilst foraging in the boxes for the kids’ vaccination papers. When we sold our previous apartment in Stockholm, I’d TOLD/SCREAMED AT MY HUSBAND TO GET RID OF THE MAJORITY OF OUR BELONGINGS AND NOT TO STORE ANYTHING UP AT HIS PARENTS HOME IN THE NORTH, turns out he stored ALL OUR BELONGINGS UP IN HIS PARENTS HOME IN THE NORTH which was then, transferred to our basement. A blatant disregard for his wife’s wishes!*
I’d told him to get rid of anything that wasn’t handknitted by a great-grandparent, so image my surprise when on top of finding an ABBA museum fridge magnet, I found a set of broken IKEA lights from 3 apartments ago and a roll of kitchen wax paper from 2010.
We have boxes of accumulated crap that date back to the dewey decimal system. I’m sure I’ll find PacMan under something.
The KonMari Method
As many of you know, I’m a big fan of the KonMari Method. It’s that book about how to throw all your material possessions away and then live a happy, minimalistic life. You ask yourself if the item at hand sparks joy in your life, and if it doesn’t, off to charity/the bin it goes.
As my basement tells you, I am a fan of reading about the KonMari method, but struggle with the implementation phase.
The time has come dear ones. I’m going to tackle our basement. I’m going to pull everything out, open up all the boxes and decide once and for all if the folder of utility bills we paid in 2008 really sparks joy in my life or whether I should discard them. Does a box 100+ empty CD plastic covers spark joy? Decisions will have to be made.
I’m going in. God speed.
*I later thanked him for this.