When we moved into our house, it was a tiny little matchbox with no closets. Yeah, you heard me right – No Closets! I have no idea where the former owners pout their stuff, but it certainly wasn’t in a closet. We have since added on to the house – including two bedrooms for the kids (with big closets) and a nice long hallway (with a big closet) and another bathroom (big closet), but the original part of the house remains closetless. The two original bedroom were actually connected (one was built at a later time), and mr b and I had plans to turn them into one larger bedroom (and add a closet). But of course, that kind of thing takes time and money and we never seem to have enough of either. So for the time being, one of those rooms has been serving as the bedroom (as in, a room with an actual bed in it) and the other – which started out as a “dressing room” of sorts, where all of our clothes and stuff were kept – has become…dunh dunh duuuuuunnnnhhh…The Hoarder Room.
I’d like to blame the whole no-closet thing on the fact that I have a Hoarder Room, but anyone who has ever seen my school locker, dorm room, or college apartment knows that would be a lie – I have to admit, I’m a bit of a slob, so it’s a combination of the two. Needless to say, The Hoarder Room was in serious need of a cleaning, and I decided that this weekend was the time to take it on.
Holy Shitballs there was a lot of stuff in there. I would have taken before and after photos, but my shamelessness does, in fact, have limits. But I’m not too proud to share with you a (sadly, only partial) list of the strange discoveries I made on my Hoarder Room Adventure. I found:
One powerball ticket, which I am going to have to check because it may be my big break
Five unscratched West Virginia (???) scratch-off lottery tickets. Luckily there were no winners, because if they had been winners, I would have almost certainly ended up in tears since they are most likely null and void, being approximately four years old.
One jar of baby food (macaroni with beef and noodles). I have NO idea what this is about, since a) it was a brand I never bought for either of my kids and b) the room became a hoarder room long after either child was eating baby food.
A bunch of unused birthday and thank-you cards (yay – I can use those).
A bunch of clothes that are too small since I have gained weight and refuse to get rid of them, since they are some of my favorites.
Several pairs of pants & some shirts that still have tags on them and are too small because my mother is still doing that previously mentioned and super endearing Buy Things Too Small and Then Say “I thought you were going to lose weight” thing.
A dress with tags still on it (also courtesy of mom) because even if I lost enough weight to be a size 2, these boobs were not made for that dress, no matter how much she refuses to face the fact.
A pile of too-big hand-me-downs for the girl.
A pile of too-small clothes for the girl that need to go to goodwill.
Four lipsticks- never used.
Eight gift bags.
A Christmas shape muffin tin. I was totally going to make those at Christmas.
Approximately 30 pounds of craft supplies.
The part I have been missing from my sewing machine for more than a year.
Novelty photos from Myrtle Beach (2007) that I had printed to give to everyone for Christmas. Fail.
An uncashed check from April 2007 for $5.00.
An uncashed check from March 2008 for $0.88.
An unopened can of Pringles.
An open bag of salt and vinegar chips.
17 labeled cds.
9 unlabeled mystery cds.
3 dvds – one coated in something sticky.
4 tubes of glow bracelets (I obviously have a thing about glow bracelets)
Approximately 2,346 hangers – some of which are not even broken.
Hello Kitty arm floaties, which I am totally saving and wearing to next years Polar Bear Plunge.
Several dead stinkbugs.
Several dead ladybugs.
A feather which appears to have come from a pigeon. I know!
Fruit Stripe Gum wrapper tattoos, lovingly sent to me by Hedge.
An empty spice rack (I don’t even know…)
A bottle of Advil.
A tube of Neosporin.
Enough Immodium to clearly illustrate my fear of shitting myself.
A pack of water balloons (minus the water, of course).
What I did not find:
Money (not counting the $3.47 in change and the potential powerball millions) BOO!
Dead bodies – human or otherwise. YAY!
Cat poop. YAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!!!!