Turns out I'm a creepy hoarder.
Well, not exactly. I actually hate "crap" in my house. I ditch stuff all the time, I sell stuff on the interwebs constantly, and on any given day I have a pile of junk in my trunk that is headed for Value Village.
But last week I realized I do have at least one weird creepy hoarding habit. I noticed this because for the last month I've been asking Hubby to gimme his goat soap.
That may require some explanation... in his Christmas stocking, Ma in Law gave Hubby some fancy goat soap. It's made of goats, I think. Or goat products. Or something. And from the moment I saw the goat soap, I had my eye on it. So for a month I've been telling Hubby to hand it over.
Well, he finally coughed up the goods, and that's when I noticed: I seem to resist throwing out the last remnants of my previous bar of soap. There is a thin, pathetic little sliver of my former soap siting on the side of my bathtub, and I seem to be incapable of discarding it. I apparently think I'll use it? When in reality, my former soap is so dramatically inferior to the new goat soap that I would be stupid to revert to my old ways. Once you go goat...
So I got to thinking, it isn't just fancy goat soap. It's all liquids and gels. Like shampoo, toothpaste, lotion. I apparently have a freaky obsession with making sure I save EVERY LAST DROP of every liquid or gel in my life.
When the body wash or dish soap gets low, I add water and shake it up to save the last drop.
I injure my fingers trying to maneuver the last of the toothpaste out of the tube.
I have at least a couple hundred small bottles of mostly-empty hand sanitizer on my desk.
And worst of all, when my lotion pump no longer reaches the bottom of the bottle, I buy a new one. But I don't throw out the old one. No way. Because once I use the new for a while, I figure there will be room in the new the bottle for me to add the remnants of the old bottle. Sometimes you'll walk into my bathroom and there'll be bottles stacked on top of bottles, dripping contents. Like ketchup bottles in a breakfast diner.
This is a sickness. Somebody save me.