For the most part, I live in a clean, clutter free environment. Too much clutter makes me anxious and my anxiety attacks trigger depressive episodes and honestly, it gets ugly. Plus I don’t like to clean and when there’s clutter, that means cleaning.
It’s just smart housekeeping, really.
But I have a secret. Lurking Hiding inside most of the closets in my house are blankets. Dozens of blankets.
That’s right, friends. I. Hoard. Blankets.
I’m not really sure why I do it. It’s not as if I have some sort of blanket fetish or I’m a purposeful, avid collector of blankets. And most of the ones that I have, I haven’t even bought. They just keep winding up in my house. And I don’t get rid of them because…well, I’m not sure why. I know they’ve come in handy on several occasions and I think I’m afraid that as soon as we unload the blankets, our house it going to be infiltrated by 46 people who all need a place to sleep and therefore need blankets.
So I keep them.
I fear I may have some issues to work through.
In my defense, though, my hoard is mostly organized and no dead animals are buried inside any blankets. I’m not in need of an intervention, although a purge is probably imminent. And my collection is categorized, meaning no blanket is without purpose. In case you’re wondering, and I know you are, my categories include:
- Our beds
- Guests
- The dogs (old ones that serve no other purpose)
- Naps (these are my favorite. Soft, fuzzy fleece)
- My daughter’s toys (converted from her baby blankets)
- Handmade blankets that are too itchy for general use but I feel like a terrible person throwing away or getting rid of
- Outside use (separate from beach towels. Think impromptu backyard picnics or lining an outdoor cat house)
- Sentimental (handmade ones that are not too itchy but serve no real purpose)
Looking at that list, I realize I might be excessive. However. In my defense (again), my blanket reserves have: helped when our heat has gone out, saved me from having to remake my bed when I take a nap, enabled me to cover my daughter when she puked all over her comforter prompting a 3AM laundry session, created a mock soft foam pit for living room tumbling sessions, become fort making materials, and so much more. We’ve had hours of sleep, fun, and saved money as a result.
So, really, my hoarding is completely practical and not at all crazy.