For the visual...

The other curtains hung. I have some wire stacking shelf pieces that I used in my other closets in Alexandria.  They are rather sticky with age; the ones I put in my closet upstairs took a bit of cleaning.  However, should I tackle such a project, I was thinking, while looking at the photo, that I could create a more useful storage space behind the curtains if I lined the two walls with some of those shelves.  [See my lonesome golf clubs?]

The filing cabinets in their new home. The shelves in the background hold my painting supplies.  While organized, I am sure they could use some more work.  The frames stacked on the filing cabinet are the rest of my "honors."  I hung my three diplomas, but since I opted not to have a real study in the house, the rest of those fancy certificates saying how smart I used to be have been sitting around since I moved. One thought I did have:  were I really, really aggressive in downsizing the things I would like to keep in filing cabinets...we are talking bloody ruthless about it...I could reduce my ownership of filing cabinets by one.  However, if I did give away the two-drawer one, I could easily envision a time when I really only need the smaller one because my brain will be completely mush instead of partly mush and all that will remain will be financial and legal files. So, both remain.  [Note:  Please ignore the fact that the Christmas tree that had been residing behind the couch really belongs in the attic with the other Christmas lights. I did not want to carry them up two flights of stairs just yet.]

The study shelf improved somewhat. If you squint real hard, you will see that the second shelf from the top has two less binders.  Actually, four of the ones in the middle are empty.  And you can easily see the vertical stack of lesson plan ideas I am studiously ignoring during in all these little distraction excursions to the basement. The books and such to the left of that second shelf are all my publications.

Sometimes I wonder if I should even bother keeping them anymore.  To me, they are like the battered trophies you might find on the back of someone's closet shelves, echoing past glory that no longer matters not.  Life is more than a high school track meet or football game.  Or, for me, life is less than I thought it would be when my mind and my pen were garnering public attention.

Myrtle's Stuff, in total.  Too much still, eh?  I think, other than working on the study shelf, I should reduce enough out of the middle section to move the two shelves of games from the far left shelf unit over to the middle one so that the far shelf is dedicated to overflow food and household goods only.  Of course, some judicious rearranging--like moving the cooler to the top shelf--might also garner a bit more space.  In any case, that way, should renters come, they would have space for their own stuff there. [In case you are wondering...no, I do not particularly believe that I have a sufficient supply of Dr Pepper on hand.]

I suppose the silver lining in the battles I am facing is that heavy use of one of my coping mechanisms means I shall eventually have the most organized stuff in Indiana and the most streamlined stuff of my existence on the planet.

Stuff.  Stuff.  Stuff.