I'm Not a Hoarder, I Swear

Or, dealing with clutter, no matter who it belongs to

Yeah, this is my office. What are you gonna do about it?

Back in the day, my Girl Scout troop went to visit the mayor of my hometown. I asked him why his office was so messy. He laughed and said that it was because he was too busy doing work to keep it clean. That must have stuck with me, because my offices can be characterized as cluttered, to say the least.

I don’t put up with trash; I put empty pop cans in the recycling. I like clean environments and love staying at minimalist hotels. But my brain has too much going on to figure out where everything should go.

My trick for keeping things from getting way out of control is the 27 Fling Boogie, invented by early-oughts housekeeping guru The FlyLady. You simply go through the house and find 27 t hings that need to go. I try to do it weekly. The beauty is that everything counts, from food hiding in the back of the fridge to a dress you’ll never wear again. Sometimes, when I get stuck deciding whether or not something should go, I ask myself if my kid would throw it out or keep it after I died. I almost always opt for throwing it out.

My mother values neatness, and she deals with stress by cleaning. The day before my father’s funeral, she was packing up his stuff and giving it away. And yet, when she finally moved out of her house last year, she still had tons of things to throw out, give away, and cart to her new digs.

We have stuff for all sorts of reasons. I have two shelves of books for research for books that I might write. I have written books before, so it’s not a reach to think that I might do these someday. I have a broken watch of my grandfather’s that reminds me of him. (He found it on the street and said that he didn’t need it to keep good time because he was retired.) My heirs will throw it out, but I can’t. I have reams of paper from when I had a printer because I might get another printer, or I can donate it to my church’s annual school supply drive, but that’s not until September.

In the Succession season finale, the brother who took over the patriarch’s apartment handed out stickers to the other relatives so that they could essentially bid for what they wanted. This is a great way to divide up heirlooms.

After family members take what they want, you can call in a professional or do it yourself.

My husband’s grandfather assumed that his relatives would want his furniture and collectibles, but no one really did. We ended up with two very nice dressers that take up a lot of space—and a bunch of Hummel figurines that ended up on eBay. My husband called in an auctioneer to deal with everything else. What the auction company couldn’t sell, it hauled away. People rarely make money holding an auction or estate sale, but it gets rid of everything. Of course, his grandfather was dead and his grandmother had moved into assisted living, so they weren’t there to second-guess the process.

Had they been there, they would have objected every step of the way.

Professional organizers can help sort things that you might want to keep from those that need to go. They can also help manage the anxiety of someone who doesn’t want to get rid of things (or doesn’t know where to start). Organizers bring a neutral perspective to an emotional process.

If you go with the do-it-yourself approach, consider having a young relative list items for sale on Facebook garage sale groups or eBay in exchange for a commission. What would be a big hassle for you could be a great summer job for a high-school student. You could also pay this person for research into local organizations that might want different items. Is there a place that takes used medical equipment? Does the local historical society want your aunt’s scrapbooks? Will a resale shop come and pick up furniture?

And then, if you must, order a Dumpster or its smaller, cheaper cousin, the Bagster. A Bagster costs about $30 at a hardware store and another $250 or so for pickup. (A 20-yard rolloff bin runs about $600 or so.)

Meanwhile, my office isn’t as bad as it looks. I don’t think. I plan to spend a half-hour whipping it into shape this weekend. Wish me luck.