It's nonsense really, the amount of junk I let pile up. The closets, the corners, the pantry, the two junk drawers in the kitchen, all littered with debris. Yes, our house is small, but it really is not small on storage. We just can't seem to get a handle on the STUFF, it's everywhere! Does Hayden really need nineteen pairs of mismatched socks, and do Matt and I really need to save every bill we've received in the last two years? The answer is no, so I've been purging. Some items have made it to the storage unit. Like the five enormous remote control cars that were played with only a handful of times. While others were taken to a clothing drop box outside of K-Mart. Purging is something I do every few months. How do I know when the purging is complete? I can see the color of my kitchen counter tops. It feels good, probably like going to a chiropractor, though I've never been. Once it has been done, everything feels right with the world. I sleep a little easier knowing that all of Hayden's socks have a match. Then a few days go by and suddenly I get the overwhelming urge to go buy STUFF to replace the STUFF that I got rid of. It's a vicious cycle of splurging and purging that fills me with immeasurable guilt. Am I whining, Phil Gramm?