I have an addiction to purses. A compulsion really. I can’t walk by a purse section in the store without getting whiplash. I have a special hanger on the inside of my closet door for all the bags in my possession. The problem is, I can only use one purse at a time. And every time I switch, I am faced with the reality of my tendency to hang on to stuff I don’t need. So I leave the unnecessary things in the purse I’m retiring, transferring only the “necessary” stuff to the new purse. So now I have a closet door full of purses full of junk. And each time I switch to a new purse, I am filled with hope that I will keep it organized, clutter free.

And it never happens.

Yet I am constantly on the search for the perfect purse to solve my clutter problem. I thought I had found the “perfect” purse, but I couldn’t bring myself to shell out the bucks for it because I knew deep down it would not solve my problem. Because the problem is not the purse. It’s me. I have a strong tendency towards clutter but you wouldn’t necessarily know it to look at my desk or my home. One look at my purse though (or my car, which I affectionately refer to as my “giant purse”) and you’ll see that clutter is and may always be my nemesis. It’s a constant battle. I get in these moods every once in awhile – purge mode, if you will – where I just want to throw away everything that I know I can live without. Necessities are food, shelter, and a minimal amount of clothing. When I’m in purge mode, everything else has the potential to be tossed. Sometimes I throw something away and a few months down the road a situation comes up where I find a use for whatever it is I disposed of. It’s at those times I have a “dang it” moment, but I wouldn’t say I ever really regret disposing of the item. Because life goes on. And if I ever need to replace anything, there’s always Wal-Mart