I am a hoarder.
When I announced this to my husband one night, his eyebrows immediately shot up, followed by a quick denial. After all, I am the one with this sign hanging in my kitchen:
It is true that I tend to drive him crazy by getting rid of things... but I'm not a hoarder of things, exactly... I'm a hoarder of information. I hate to have to say "I don't know." I simply can't get rid of data.
Do you know how many piles of paper that I have, saying that I need to "someday" digitize the information? I haven't needed any of the info in those piles in years, but I hold some great desire to somehow hold on to every piece of data regarding our family. Someone might need to know how many times Sarah went to speech therapy in 1999, right? Sigh.
My therapist is helping me get some perspective on all of this, and see how much of a burden I'm putting on myself by trying to keep track of everything. This is not an easy battle, but hopefully, one I can win.
No comments:
Post a Comment