Woke up today thinking about those small annoyances around the house – you know, the stuff that nags at you but never seems urgent enough to actually fix. Like that jumble of random cords in the living room corner, the mismatched coffee mugs overflowing the cabinet, or the way the junk drawer just refuses to close properly anymore. I figured, today’s the day I tackle those little things. Just chip away at them, one by one.
Starting Simple: The Cord Monster
First target: the dreaded cord corner. Seriously, how do these things multiply? I grabbed an empty shoebox from the hallway closet – figured it was better than buying some fancy organizer right off the bat. Sat my butt right down on the living room floor in front of the dusty pile.
- Step 1: Dug in. Started untangling phone chargers, an old laptop adapter, cables for gadgets I swear we haven’t owned in years, and yes, several totally mystery cords (what even ARE you?). Felt like wrestling an octopus made of plastic and rubber.
- Step 2: Got ruthless. Held each one up: “Do I know what this is for? Used it in the last year?” Nope? Into the donation/recycle bin you go. That cleared out a solid third of the pile immediately.
- Step 3: For the keepers – the phone chargers, the earbuds case cable, the Switch power cord – I dug out some zip ties (also found buried in the pile!). Neatly coiled each one and tied it off. Looked way less chaotic.
- Step 4: Plopped the coiled winners into the shoebox. Felt stupidly satisfying. Labeled the front with a sharpie: “USEFUL CORDS.” Boom. Done.
The Mug Avalanche
Next, headed to the kitchen. Opened the cabinet above the coffee maker and barely dodged a cascade of mugs tumbling out. We have way, way too many. Sentimental favorites, freebies from events, that chipped one my partner refuses to part with… it was unsustainable.
- Cleared the entire shelf. Wiped it down – wow, dust.
- Laid every mug out on the counter. Felt slightly ridiculous seeing them all together.
- The Rule: “Do we both actually like drinking from it?” And “If it vanished tomorrow, would we notice or care?”
- The Result: A surprisingly large pile for donation. Kept maybe eight. The rest? Wiped clean, boxed up for the thrift store trip I keep promising myself.
- Bonus: Stacked the keepers neatly back in the cabinet. So much space! Felt like a tiny kitchen miracle.
The Impossible Junk Drawer
Okay, saved the hardest for (nearly) last. That kitchen drawer. The one packed so full it requires a shoulder bump to close. Time for reckoning.
- Dumped it. All of it. Onto the kitchen table. Old batteries (oof, hopefully not leaking?), dried up pens, random screws, takeout menus from places long closed, half-dead rubber bands, orphaned keys to who-knows-what… it was a fascinating archaeological dig of modern life.
- Swept the actual drawer out – found crumbs and dust bunnies.
- Sorting Patrol:
- Obvious trash: Dead batteries (recycled properly later), dried pens, ancient receipts, broken stuff. Just pitched it.
- Useful but homeless: Put the decent rubber bands with office supplies. Random screws went into the little toolbox in the garage. Keys? Made a pile for “Identify Later”.
- Actual “Junk Drawer Essentials”: One functioning pen, a mini sharpie, a couple of new AA batteries, a roll of electrical tape, a few paperclips. The absolute core necessities.
- The “Maybe?” pile: A small screwdriver, a phone charging adapter. Decided they earned their spot… for now.
- Reloaded the drawer with just the “Essential” and “Maybe” piles. Added the little box I got my last pair of glasses in to hold the rubber bands and paperclips. Smashed it shut with one finger. Glorious! No shoulder-bump required.
Not Perfect, But Progress
Did I magically fix every tiny problem in the house? Hell no. There’s still that squeaky door hinge. And the weird stain on the porch. But those little things I tackled? Honestly, it felt good. Took maybe an hour and a half altogether, spread out between coffee breaks.
The place feels lighter already. Less visual chaos. Knowing exactly where the phone charger is? Worth it. Grabbing a mug without an avalanche? Priceless. The drawer closing smoothly? Pure bliss.
Moral of the story? Sometimes you just gotta dive into those little things. Don’t wait for the perfect weekend or the major decluttering spree. Grab ten minutes. Deal with one cord tangle. Clear out five useless mugs. Sort a single drawer. It adds up. Feels surprisingly powerful.
