Junk and Despair

Peter and I are pack rats. We have so much crap that our drawers and closets are overflowing, and our whole house is just one big mess. Looking around the room I can see the disorganized closet in full view for anyone to see (it doesn’t have a door). There are boxes, paper, bags, doll clothes I want to sell on Ebay, a large blank canvas painting, and a big picnic basket full of Christmas presents that need to be wrapped. My desk is littered with photographs, notebooks, knickknacks and doodads, papers, pens, and of all things, a paper mache mask. There is a dead monitor in the corner next to my mom’s old sewing machine. Our art supply cabinet looks like someone set a bomb off inside and now half of what it should neatly contain is actually on the floor. Paid bills, receipts, and instruction manuals are stacked on top of the filing cabinet because we’re too lazy to actually put them inside it. There are two more canvases in the room; paintings that are never quite finished enough to make it onto a wall. A drawer overflowing with Peter’s projects sits in the middle of the room. There is a stack of old newspapers, an old telephone, cameras, cords, headphones, and boxes of computer shit we never use and will never need to use. This is all in a room probably a little bigger then your typical office cubical, and doesn’t include Peter’s desk behind me (I’m afraid to look). When we finally get fed up with the crap our closets can no longer hold the shit gets tossed into the basement. Except for camping gear and holiday decorations, most of the shit down there is never wanted, needed, or seen ever again. I hate living like this. I feel uncomfortable in every room, and all the useless clutter is oppressive and depressing. Peter says we have higher priorities then keeping neat and organized. I just feel lazy, dirty, and completely overwhelmed. I have plenty of time on my hands yet I sit in this pathetic mess every day and do little to improve it. Even as bad as this house makes me feel I am still not motivated enough to roll up my shirt sleeves and get to work. I have lots of excuses. Foremost of them is that I don’t want to do it alone. Just thinking of how much time and effort it would take to get this house in good shape exhausts me. I would also have to prepare myself for an all out battle with my husband. Hard to believe, but Peter is worse then I am. The amount of truly useless crap he holds onto astounds me. Whenever I suggest we get rid of things he says he wants to at least try to give some of it away first. Not only do I doubt that anyone would want any of this shit, I feel that we’re beyond that. If it were possible, I’d have one of those big garbage bins delivered and I’d just throw it all away. It might be wasteful and bad for the environment, but right now my own personal environment is so toxic and polluted that I’d be more than willing to do it. So, overwhelmed with the amount of work to be done, and knowing the resistance I will get should I attempt a major overhaul of the entire house, I wallow in self-pity and despair. We need an intervention. We need help…serious help. Any volunteers?