New Year, Same Me. Crap.

You see why I had to stop calling this series PURGEDAY THURSDAY?  Even though it’s totally catchier than “Cut Your Crap” I am nowhere near together enough to keep something like this to the same day of the week.  Plus, I have deadlines in my real jobs, so there’s no way in hell I’m adding the bonus stress of imposing weird deadlines here too.

Anyway.

Welcome to a very special Friday the Thirteenth edition of Cut Your Crap.  Triskaidecaphobics beware: This edition of Cut Your Crap is threefold, because in 2012, with a whole fresh year ahead of me (aside from the past thirteen days, but whatever) there are three different areas of life in which I will be tackling crap cutting.

Closet crap.  Have you read about this dude who only owns fifteen things?  (He has a job and stuff, it’s totally a choice.)  In 2010 he went through everything he owned, sold off all his crap, and paired it down to only absolute necessities.

Now, I am not crazy nor do I desire to cycle through the same three pairs of underwear, but reading about the simplicity of this dude’s day to day as a result of his minimalist lifestyle struck a chord with me, and it made me want to commit to something crazy.   So here’s what I’m going to try:

I’ve already failed at my New Years Resolution of getting dressed daily (I’m writing this in the flannel pajama bottoms Scott gave me for X-Mas) but I’m not giving up yet.  In fact, I’m kicking it up a notch, like Emeril.  I’m going to not only attempt to get dressed every day, but I’m going to do it without buying a single article of clothing for the entire year.  Not in an attempt to save money (although I expect that will be a happy side effect) but rather in an attempt to clear out my overflowing closet.  If I don’t wear it in 2012, it’s gone.  If it fails the Cool or Crazy test, it’s gone. I’ll probably have to enlist Jessica to help with this, but I just decided to go for it, so I haven’t asked her yet.

…BAM.  How do you like me now, Emeril?  (Whatever, I had two cups of Hot Chocolate this morning.)

Actual Physical Crap.  Going back to our friend with fifteen things, I probably own fifteenthousand things…and not in a good way.  So again, this year is the year that I stop hoarding for my future mansion, and start respecting my present 1100 square feet.  Something isn’t right when a stroll through the Sherman Oaks Antique Mall makes me feel like I’m rummaging through my own basement.  Garage Sale-rs of the Valley?  Brace yourselves.  I’m ready to go minimalist.  Ish.  Mediumalist.  Just…not maximist, okay?

Crap in my Mind/Body.  Let’s be honest, there’s a lot.  Last year I lost 100 lbs, but my diet is garbage.

Want to join me?