Some people would take this as a serious reason for withdrawal. I've seen grown adults reduced to jelly over the fact that their babies have left the nest and the realization that they've only their spouse as company. I've also seen grown adults reenact their teenage years, which isn't any prettier the second time around.
So far, I am completely amazed at things I'm finding: My tent (which was not put away damp nor without the poles as I've long believed), four (count 'em ... four) sleeping bags (that survived the washer and dryer and still have workable zippers), an old drill (with all of the bits), empty notebook binders (I could open my own binder store), unmatched socks, shirts I have forgotten about, and underwear that I didn't even know I owned. I actually bra shop in my own drawers. Yes, I dump about five bras in the clothing bin (someone is going to be very happy ... and well-frilled), and I discover about five bras that are still like brand new that I salvage for myself.
At this rate, everything old is truly new again. I discover clothes, toiletries, and personal items that I never understood how much I needed them all until I try to throw the stuff away. I am hit horribly by the "I Might Need These Someday" blues. The only solution is to pack up the bags quickly, leave the house immediately, and put them in clothing collection bins (or, more appropriately, the trash) before I change my mind.
Now, if I could just find the time to get at my kitchen with the same fervor as the rest of the house. Next!
