I seem to have a never-ending supply of stuff. I'm pretty sure that when I leave the area, it reproduces (asexually, I hope). I have figured out the biggest problem: Whenever I move, I declutter rather ruthlessly. But as the day of the move approaches, the last 10 boxes or so get filled up with all the small random stuff that is somehow, possibly, useful. And those boxes are in my garage. Ick. I hate the thought of going through them. Terrible laziness has set in and my ambition has atrophied. And that is the danger of out-of-sight-out-of-mind.
I did finish cleaning out the master closet, for now. I have organized and sorted my clothes until they only take up one side, including my seasonal items which are boxed up.
What I really need to do is watch Hoarders, then set the timer for 20 minutes, and see how much stuff I can get through every night in the garage.