In today’s blog post, I would like to address a growing phenomenon that has recently come to my attention. I’ve dubbed it “Pinterest Organizer’s Syndrome.”
Earlier this week, I received two inquiries from two different friends within about 20 minutes of each other asking the same thing: how do you get rid of books?
Over the weekend, I helped my boyfriend move from Kansas City, Missouri, to his new home in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, where he’ll be starting grad school this fall. I use the term “help” generously, because he moved all of his necessary belongings in four boxes, two carry-ons and a laptop bag with almost no assistance from me. And for about $1,000.
How’d he do it? The answer is simple.
My sister and I spent last weekend decluttering her entire bedroom. And when I say “decluttering,” I don’t mean a non-committal, put-a-few-shirts-and-koozies-into-a-box-and-call-it-good decluttering—I mean a massive purge that spanned two days and resulted in nearly 20 grocery bags marked for donation.
Hey team—I wanted to publish a quick update to let you know my blog name has changed from “someone else’s life” to “burst of intention.” I’ve been searching for the right blog name for a couple of weeks, and “burst of intention” feels right, considering this is a blog intended to help us live purposeful, intentional lives.
I also now own the domain, which means burstofintention.com will bring you (and all your friends!) directly to this site. It’s probably the best $35 I’ve ever spent.
We’ll get back to our regularly scheduled programming on Saturday, when I’ll recap a massive declutter marathon I completed with my sister last weekend (with pictures to prove it). I’ll also give some tips on how to declutter without wanting to cry, throw up, or scream profanities while shaking your fist at the sky.
In the meantime, feel free to check out my Instagram account for travel inspiration and gratuitous pictures of my cockatiel, Jasper. He’s pretty cute.
A few weeks ago, I spent an entire weekend cleaning.
From Saturday morning to Sunday night, I waged war against the dust bunnies in my bedroom—vacuuming, dusting, tidying, doing laundry, wiping counters, and aggressively scrubbing my toilet. By the end of my cleaning marathon, I was lying exhausted on freshly laundered sheets in my pristine bedroom, proud of the progress I had made. But when all was said and done, there was one thought nagging at the back of my mind: Was there something better I could have done with that time?
One day, a couple of years ago, my dad inadvertently gave me some of the best advice I’ve ever received.