My name is Tara, I am a hoarder.
I have always been a hoarder of some kind, since childhood. I had a shoebox filled with sheets of stickers I wouldn't use because they were too beautiful. Chapsticks I didn't want to apply because they smelled great. A bag of erasers in cute shapes I wouldn't touch. A giant bin of crayons and markers. Every Polly Pocket ever created. Two dozen Tamagachi's (remember those?!?) and a zillion Barbies.
I hated (and still do honestly) that moment when you run out of something you want. The feeling of knowing I couldn't run out of something, that I would always have a back-up... I have no idea where it came from, but it was always there.
Fast forward to adulthood. I've managed to streamline my hoarding and make myself look less crazy. Well, moderately so. I still have way too many t-shirts and prom dresses in my closet, and maybe fifty or so nail polish bottles. And a box of every note ever written to me from elementary school til college. Plus enough books to start a library. But... BUT... They are managed. My books are on shelves, my notes have a box in the back of the closet.
The only aspect of my hoarding I can't hide is my stockpile. When I moved in with Hubs, I brought over a few cans and boxes that I was able to hoard in my tiny townhouse. We stacked them neatly on a metal shelf in the basement, and I joked to Hubs that they were our "apocalypse supplies."
Since then, my coupon-loving Hubs and my inner hoarder have combined to make a stockpile that would make my depression-era grandma proud. Yesterday we finally outgrew our metal shelving unit and we added my mother's sewing table from her college days. The McKays in the neighboring town is moving locations so their entire store is 30% off. Hubs went kinda crazy.
I'm getting teary again...but seriously. TADA!!!
I swear I don't normally cry over the ability to add to my obsessive collecting tendencies. But I was so shocked when Hubs came home with bags of groceries that were not only able to be added to my
treasure emergency stockpile, but that they were all the "right" things! With our new clean(er) eating habits, I was worried that him shopping alone would have been a disaster. He managed to not only find great deals, but also healthy foods.
So I cried. Plus I might have done a happy dance. Several times. The tears might or might not have also had do with hormones. But whatever. It was awesome.
Now don't eat my stockpile. I'm enjoying looking at it too much.
Dammit, this is the stickers all over again.