After my family made a decision to move out of the UK we looked at the steps we would need to take to make our goal happen.
One of the first things we needed to do was to get rid of stuff. There’s no point in carting stuff half way around the world if you haven’t used it in a decade. Either that, or we would need to pay expensive fees to store our stuff that we may indeed never collect again. To see it years later on an episode of storage wars...
It was tough at first but it got easier as we moved through the piles of collected tat.
Books… no one wants books anymore. No one will take them, charity shops don’t want them. Piles of books languish sadly at the council dump. Everyone’s gone digital – a bandwagon I never jumped on.
Out went ten years’ worth of old underpants and socks! Why hadn’t I done this before?
Hobbies that I had grown out of. Bad purchases never opened. Clothes from the 90’s.
Old computers, laptops, broken monitors, orphaned remote controls, keys from old houses, magazines, cd’s, dvd’s, old pans, plantpots, ornaments! All thrown out in glee.
If it didn’t get sold at a carboot sale (which we did many of) we offered to friends, charities, local education groups. If no takers to the tip it went.
Guilty feelings about being a wasteful consumerist were quickly overcome with feelings of glee and freedom as quickly as each room started to look more tidy and calm. Bliss.
One sanctuary of junk still remains in the house though. The dreaded attic! Home of truly epic tat. The only reason I haven’t cleared out this last remaining room is because I am still too fat to fit through the trapdoor.
I'm telling you to get rid of your tat now. You will thank me for it.
Take chances!
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