Frogger

Photo by Blanzer

Big brown box. Flopping fearful frog.

Back before high-definition computer games or video game consoles that did everything for you, there existed the Atari. Those of you born after 1901 probably have no idea what I'm talking about. But in my family, the Atari was a big deal. I remember with clarity the day my parents brought one home. The excitement I felt at the sight of that huge brown eyesore, about 90 pounds in weight, rivaled that of the news my baby brother was coming home from the hospital.

We owned, like, 2 games. (I was raised in the era where playing outside was still a good idea--even if hailstones were pouring from the sky in buckets.) So the Atari was pulled out of the closet on "special occasions." (Think Leap Year and your Golden Birthday.) Sticks and stones had nothing on the Atari. I considered the days I got to play with it holidays of the greatest kind.

There was one game that I loved. I believe it was called "Frogger." The object of the game was to direct these little bright green frogs across roads plagued with traffic. And, of course, the higher in level you got, the more hazards you had to maneuver. By the end of the game, there was so much activity and so many hurdles and hazards, that you were actually ready to commit frog kamikaze.

I'll make my point.

There have been days where I felt like I was the frog in my own house. Too many items on the bookshelves. Too many dishes in the cabinet. Too many "piles" that need to be sorted. And I am left to maneuver the hazards. It doesn't make being home nearly as enjoyable.

The goal this week is to eliminate clutter. Sure the object may be useful to someone--but are YOU using it? If not, it has become another one of those hurdles on the highway of hazards. And being that frog isn't fun--especially by the eighth level.

This is the week to do it. Pick one room and be really honest about what needs to stay and what needs to go.