Adults with ADD are notorious for hanging onto clutter.  We’ve being scolded our whole lives for loosing things through our carelessness.  If we never throw anything a way, we know it’s there … somewhere.  We might not be able to find it right now, [...]]]>

Oscar has no problem with trash -- he LOVES trash!

Adults with ADD are notorious for hanging onto clutter.  We’ve being scolded our whole lives for loosing things through our carelessness.  If we never throw anything a way, we know it’s there … somewhere.  We might not be able to find it right now, but we know we didn’t lose it!  It’s just misplaced, right?  We can find it here … somewhere … even if it takes eight hours to do it.

For years, that was my major motivation in hanging on to every little worthless piece of junk.  I didn’t know what was important, and I didn’t know when I might need it, so I might as well hang onto it.  My clutter was an allergy-inducing, frustrating eyesore, but there was security in it too.  The security that whatever it was, I probably had it around here … somewhere.

And so, the hardest part of my organizing journey was the purge — getting rid of things I didn’t need.

The “give away” category was bad enough.  Intellectually, I knew that I didn’t need the cheap set of cookware I’d bought in college, but emotionally, I was convinced that if I donated them, I’d be looking for them a month later.  But with the giveaway pile, I was able to reason with myself.  I could tell myself that I hadn’t used those things in years, and that someone else would be getting good use from them.  Giving them away was a good thing for everybody.

But putting items into the “trash” category, and then actually putting them in the actual trash — that was the worst.

Items that qualified as “trash” were pretty numerous.  “Trash” included anything that was broken.   “Trash” included anything that was missing a part, and  anything that was clearly a part to something else, but I didn’t know what.  “Trash” included anything that was too dirty to use.  “Trash” included leaking, duplicate, and triplicate cleaning supplies in various states of emptiness.

So into the trash went the four bottles of different types of eco-friendly household cleaner (I kept two bottles to have on hand).  Into the trash went the non-stick cook wear that was scratched and peeling. Likewise all those coffee mugs with broken handles, that I’d been meaning to glue together for years. Then there were the cheap plastic bowls and plates and silverware that I’d inherited in college from graduating seniors, all of which was stained or cracked or even melted.

Even though these items were useless, it was hard for me to toss them.  I felt like I should be able to “come up with a use” for them.  Many of the items couldn’t even be recycled, and I felt guilty about having so much garbage.  I didn’t want to be another greedy, wasteful American, my home bursting at the seams with unused purchases that were destined for overflowing landfills.

Fortunately, I had my clutter buddy.  This was an area where really be a realty check.   She reassured me it was OK to throw things out when they’re broken and useless.  She pointed out holding onto my worthless junk would in no way solve our collective cultural problems with waste.  Most importantly, she explained that by throwing away all that garbage, I’d be able to keep better track of what I owned.  I would buy fewer things overall, and therefore I would be less wasteful overall.

We ended our day by taking several trips to the curb with my garbage.  Then we hit Goodwill with several bags full of donations.  I felt bruised.  I felt embarrassed about the years worth of junk we had found in my kitchen — in the place where I prepared and served food.  I felt guilty about the waste I had generated.  And I felt bereft, too; bereft of the items I was giving up, however useless, because of the security they represented to me.

This time was the scariest part in my organizing process.  Not only had I just undergone a Great Purge, but I would have to wait another week before really putting my kitchen back together.  Since no other part in my home was organized, it was necessary to designate an area on the kitchen floor for items that would ultimately belong in the kitchen, but wouldn’t have a “home” there until we’d organized more than the food prep area. This pile would be kept off to the side of the dining area so nothing would get stepped on.  I was terrified that it would wind up staying there forever.  But I took a deep breath, scheduled a decluttering session with my buddy for the following week, and turned to the next step in the process: the Sorting.

“I think we should help each other get organized”, she said.

I was stunned. “Get organized? Help each other?” I asked. “How can I be any help to you at all? You’re pretty [...]]]> My organizing journey began in the fall of 2005 when a friend of mine called me with an interesting proposition.

“I think we should help each other get organized”, she said.

I was stunned. “Get organized? Help each other?” I asked. “How can I be any help to you at all? You’re pretty organized already. I’m a chaos demon. I think I just need to come to terms with that.”

“I realize that I know more about organizing than you do,” said my friend. “That’s OK. But I just moved in with my partner, I’ve got a lot of unpacking to do, and two people’s stuff to deal with. I could use the company. And I think I could help you a lot.”

“Look, I’m grateful, I really am. I’m happy to help you get unpacked. I just don’t think I’ll ever be organized. Honestly. I’ve tried EVERYTHING. You wouldn’t believe the money I’ve wasted on containers and drawer organizers. Besides, I’m in grad school, and I have a job … I have no time and no money.”

“Do you have one afternoon a week?” she asked.

“Well, I guess Friday afternoons are free”, I said.

“Great. If I recommend a book, a single, inexpensive book, are you willing to buy it?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’ve read everything and nothing works. Besides, I’ve got a ton of reading to do already.”

“You haven’t read this,” my friend told me. “And it’s easy. It won’t take you any time at all.”

“OK, fine, I’ll buy the book”, I said. “I just don’t want you to feel bad if this doesn’t work.”

“I know you’ve had a lot of bad experiences in the past, but I know you, and I really think this will work.  I wouldn’t be suggesting it otherwise,” my friend said. “Go find that book. And I’ll see you Friday.”

Hmph, I thought to myself after I hung up. We’ll just see about this book.

The book, Julie Morgenstern’s Organizing from the Inside Out, would change my life. Using it, I was actually able to organize my space, starting a cascade of healthy, positive change that has completely transformed the way I see myself.

The second step in my organizing process is a quick pre-sort.  This is a quick way to get rid of two categories of stuff: things that don’t belong [...]]]> This is the second post in my Organizing an Entryway series. I’m breaking it down into steps that are as small as possible to prevent ADD overwhelm.

The second step in my organizing process is a quick pre-sort.  This is a quick way to get rid of two categories of stuff: things that don’t belong in a space, and obvious DTPCA’s.  What’s a DTPCA?  With apologies to Dan Savage of Savage Love, DTPCA stands for “Ditch That Piece of Crap Already”, and it applies to any object that qualifies uncategorically as garbage.  DTPCAs include any item that is broken, that’s missing half its component parts, or things like excess shopping bags and shoeboxes.

A quick look at my entryway told me that there were several things in it that had homes elsewhere.  There were two suitcases that could be put away, and of course, the suitcases themselves contained things that one doesn’t generally store in one’s entryway. The first one had a bunch of spices in it that I’d gotten on my trip, because I wanted to avoid paying the nearly 10% sales tax at the Penzey’s in the Bay Area… after buying them in the Twin Cities, I realized that they’re food and therefore not subject to sales tax.

Suitcase full of spices, even though I don't actually cook in my entryway. Silly chaos demon!

The second suitcase had some t-shirts and socks in it that I could have been wearing this last month.

I was wondering where all my clothes went.

The first thing I did was to the clothes in the wash, and the spices in the kitchen. Then I put the luggage away. The enormous pile of bags and boxes next to the door are mostly DTPOCAs.  The bags turned out to be filled with recycling or with other plastic bags, and most of the boxes were useless.  I kept a few of them boxes to ship books.  The rest I recycled.

Ditch That Piece Of Crap Already

It can be tempting to hold onto boxes. They look so useful, don’t they? You can use them for shipping, for storage, you never know when they’ll come in handy, right?

Wrong. Cardboard boxes are terrible for storage, because you can’t see what’s inside of them. And very few boxes are actually useful for shipping. If a box originally held shoes, or a computer, or a cell phone, the size and shape are going to be too odd to be really good for shipping anything; chances are, if you keep it, you won’t use it. Remember, whether you rent or own, you’re paying for the space you use to store those boxes. Is it really worth it to occupy that space with pieces of cardboard?

Once I pre-sorted, my space looked much more manageable:

Ah, that's better!

I’ll leave you with an image of the worst DTPCA that I found in my entryway — a piece of stale, moldy flat bread, presumably from a some time over the summer.

The fact that I found it in a bag from The Container Store is a nice bit of irony.

The next step is sorting, so stay tuned!

I basically use Julie Morgenstern’s five-step SPACE system (“SPACE” stands for Sort, Purge, Assign a home, [...]]]> I stared work on my entryway today.  I’ll be posting a series of entries on how I’m going about it, step by step, so you can see how a Real Live Person with ADD starts and finishes an organizing project.

I basically use Julie Morgenstern’s five-step SPACE system (“SPACE” stands for Sort, Purge, Assign a home, Containerize, Equalize).If you’ve never organized a space before, it can be hard to know exactly where to start, so I’m spelling it everything I do to the last detail.

To begin with, here is my entryway:

My Entryway

And here it is from another angle.

Nice, isn't it?

It’s a pretty hellish mess.  There are suitcases from a trip I took in September, a grocery bag filled with gods-know-what, and stuff spilling out of the closet.

The sad thing is that I organized the entryway in May.  I found paperwork dating from 2006, but I cleaned it all out.  So why didn’t it stick?

My mistake was that I didn’t finish the job.  I neglected to sort and purge anything in the coat closet.  To make matters worse, I moved an unwanted bookcase into the entryway, and used it as a staging ground to sell some used books.  I failed to put a deadline on that task, so I never finished the job — and six months later, half the books are still in my entryway, taking up valuable real estate.  There’s also a pile of donations that I never donated, and also some just plain trash:

Hey, that's some very important cardboard!

Before I start organizing a space, I do some “pre-organizing”.  That is, I take a thorough look at the space.  I ask myself the following questions: how do I use this space?  how would I like to use this space?  what’s keeping me from using it in the way that I like?  what’s working about the space as it is?  what’s not working?

To answer my own questions, I currently use my entryway as a dumping ground.  Bags, briefcases, and backpacks tend to get dumped on the floor when my husband or I walk in the door.  Because it’s closed off from the living area, the entryway also houses the litter box; and since the mail comes through a slot in the door every day, it also has a recycling bin for junk mail.

I would like my entryway to be a place where I can store coats, hats, and shoes, and find them when I need them.  I would also like it to be more welcoming to guests.

What’s working about the space is a shoe rack where our shoes can usually be found, and a rack of coat pegs mounted to one wall.  What’s not working about the space is the bookcase, which blocks a second rack of coat pegs, significantly cutting down on storage; the closet, which is vomiting forth its contents like a hungover college freshling; the coat tree, which is also overflowing; we have no good place to store hats or cold weather accessories; and the fact that the cat box is the first thing guests see when they enter my home.

Having taken stock of my entryway, I am ready to proceed to the next step: pre-sorting, which I will cover in a new post.

Hmmm, maybe this why my friends never come over …

The charming view, upon entering my humble abode.