19 July 2009

Paper or Plastic? Yes, Please.

It's a dangerous time of year for me to leave the house. I saw it coming last week in the form of a Bed Bath & Beyond mailer, replete with colorful photographs and vivid product descriptions of items guaranteed to make your co-ed's dorm experience more organized, fashionable and downright pleasant.


Back. To. School.


Back to School (or "BTS" as my husband would call it, because he's a web nerd and they're very into acronyzing everything) doesn't usually set anyone's heart aflutter. Certainly not kids, whose lives are just so hard the thought of going from doing absolutely nothing all summer to doing next to nothing all fall, winter and spring causes their anxiety/asthma/ADHD to flare-up. Even parents, overjoyed by the end of expensive summer child care (or the end of being saddled with their offspring all day every day), are known to shed a tear when the cost of school supplies and uniforms and clothes and shoes and books and all other accoutrements of the so-called "free" education is tallied up. Indeed, the effective End Of Summer sends me into a depression deeper than...well, something really deep.


That said, BTS brings out my inner shopaholic in the worst ways. I'm not into shoes or purses or lipstick or any of the usual girly shopping stuff. No, my weakness is paper products and brightly-colored bits of plastic, all of which can be found in abundance during BTS.


I've always had a weakness for organization and storage products. My idea of the perfect date would be dinner followed by a trip to The Container Store. In fact, I'd like to think there is a Heaven, and it's just like The Container Store, only on a much larger scale. With no shortage of clear shoe boxes. And everything is free.


The natural partner of an organization product obsession is list-making, and I am no exception. I make a lot of lists. Grocery lists, to-do lists, inventory lists, gift lists, address lists, chore lists, list lists. Which means I also have a fetish for notebooks, bound journals, 3-ring binders, divider tabs, pocketfolios and all manner of pens and markers and hi-lighters, oh my!


So you can see why it might behoove me to stay far away from the general retail area during BTS. Alas, my husband has yet to fully comprehend the severity of my affliction and continues to allow me to leave the house during peak season without supervision.


Saturday night, for example. I had planned to go out (yes, a social activity) with a friend, but plans fell through at the last minute. After the Toddler went to bed, I announced I was going to the nearest convenience store to buy beer. My husband countered with "why don't you just go to Wal-Mart and get (various items we were out of) too?"


I resisted. I hate Wal-Mart almost as much as I hate Fox News. But I relented, and bank card in hand, set about my mission.


As soon as I walked in, I was overpowered by the floor-to-ceiling displays of crayons. I freaking love crayons. Not coloring, just crayons. In the 64-count box with the built-in sharpener (that does not, by the way, work for pencils, so don't ever try this). The lure of the crayons was too strong to resist (not that I bothered trying), and before I knew it, I was in the housewares aisles, deciding we need a mandoline. (We do not. We have a Cuisinart.) I also decided we need a plethora of other items, including (but not limited to) pop-up laundry hampers, lunch storage and transport containers, an ironing board cover with iron rest and storage pocket, a set of melamine dinnerware, new bedding and a personal refrigerator.


I managed to resist all of those items, but one got past even my dogged determination (and tight budget). Small round laundry baskets, in white plastic, for $1.50 each. I've been looking for some sort of baskets or containment media to slide under a bench in our living room and thus store backpacks and shoes and purses and all the other crap we can't leave home without. These were perfect. Small, light, and ridiculously cheap. I could buy a couple more for the boys' rooms--their own personal hampers. I could buy a few for my trunk, to keep it organized and keep cans from escaping grocery bags. My God, the possibilities are endless. Endless, I say!


I bought six of them. They are, of course, about an inch too tall to put under the bench, but they go nicely in the front hall closet (for the same purpose). And the boys now have their own hampers in their rooms. (The Toddler, for one, is sleeping better at night for this.)


And it's not over. That "tax holiday" weekend is coming up in three short weeks, and I've already got my eye on a few things. Nothing extravagant, just a few minor items that will hopefully help me straighten out my bedroom closet and, therefore, my life.


And, of course, lots and lots of plastic shoe boxes. With clear lids.

1 comment:

  1. I love a good "crossing off" of a list item. Such a sense of accomplishment. Sometimes I write things down I've already done just so I can cross them off. Hey, every junkie needs her fix.

    ReplyDelete