Saving

Everyone has strange little quirks. Little things that make us unique. For example, my aunt doesn't like lots of water, in the sink, for instance. But as easy as it is to see other people's eccentricities, it is all the more difficult to see our own. And then we begin to wonder if we even have any quirks. Maybe we're one of the few normal people out there. But deep down we know there's something. It's just a matter of finding it.

The form of my quirk is slowly beginning to take shape in my mind. I'm beginning to realize I do have that little something that makes me special. I'm a saver of little random things, usually consumables. Mark calls it hoarding. I had never really thought much about it until recently as I've been trying to slowly clean out our house. For example, I have sample Clinique facewash tubes that I've been saving for that perfect trip where I'll need a tube just that size. But I've had the tubes for at least 10 years now. I know because they have an "E" in permanent marker on them, something Laura and I used to do to keep our stuff straight. That was before I went to college. I'm thinking facewash has a pretty long shelf-life, but not that long.

A few weeks ago I was cleaning out a binder to use for work and came across about 10 sheets of notebook paper. Without thinking, I put the paper in a folder and put it back in my desk. The average person would throw it out. But I think of the unneeded trash that I would be creating. The paper's perfectly good. Not wrinkled. Holes in tact. But it's ten sheets of paper. And it's from high school. I know I'm not going to use it any time soon.

What really drives Mark crazy is my need to save food. I'll save three bites of leftover macaroni for that time when I really need a snack and don't feel like fixing anything. Mark tells me it's 10 cents worth of pasta, but that's not the point. It's the effort that went into it and the waste if I threw it out. It finally really hit me when I had put a sippy cup back in the fridge with less than an ounce of milk in it. It's that little bit that can't even be drunk because of how the cup works. Mark asked me why I didn't just put it in the dishwasher. I had no good reason, but I know that in the back of my mind I was thinking, you could just pour some more milk in there later and then that milk wouldn't be wasted.

I wonder where this strange quirk of mine came from. We weren't poor when I was growing up. We had everything we needed and then some. It's this spartan part of my personality that maybe gives me a sense of control and goodness, maybe like when people fast and feel virtuous. Maybe its roots are in my dad's mom who grew up in the depression and tries to make use of everything, and give away the things she can't. She'll often offer me empty nut containers or canned goods that she couldn't make use of. I think how odd that is, and yet, in my own way, I do the same thing.

So one of my recent goals is to let go of those unused and unneeded things. I recently filled a trashcan with old makeup samples and free cosmetic bags that I've never used. And I get a different sense of virtuosity from it. A sense of freedom and pride that I don't need so many material things. Granted, I'm giving up things that I never used in the first place, but it's the letting go that's important. With my cabinets and closets less cluttered, my life also feels more spacious and open. Funny how such little things can make such a difference. I did end up throwing out those 10 sheets of notebook paper.