An extra deep cabinet can go so wrong
How I ended up with 26 screwdrivers.
At first it seems great: look at all this space!
I can fit so many things here!
I’ll totally remember what I have in the back, no problemo.
Who wouldn’t want a luxuriously deep cabinet? But the reality slowly creeps in, and before you know it the back of that extra-deep cabinet is a dreaded black hole. Items go in, but never come out. Your knees quake at the thought of traversing its depths to discover what lies within.
I know this cycle well because I just recovered from 5 years with a black hole tool cabinet in our basement.
(And before you roll your eyes, I see you small space dwellers thinking you’d give anything for an extra-deep cabinet. I know, I KNOW. I’m spoiled.)
The tool cabinet started innocently enough. When we moved in, I dutifully sorted all our tools into bespoke containers, favoring old yogurt tubs and recycled cardboard boxes due to my anti-bin beliefs. Ever the good girl, I labeled everything as though a label could resist the force of a black hole.
Look, a black hole exerts 1.6 trillion times the gravitational pull we experience on Earth. My Sharpie didn’t stand a chance.
So before I knew it, my husband and I stopped looking more than 6 inches into the cabinet. If we needed something, it better be within that first 6 inches. Otherwise, we’d head to the hardware store.
The black hole just kept swallowing things until I finally couldn’t take it anymore. Most people feel calm if a quick visual scan shows a tidy home. But not me. I feel best when storage areas that no one ever sees are in order. The inside of the cabinet under the bathroom sink needs to be tidy. Ditto the basement storage areas. To me, clutter in these hidden spaces feels like an invisible cancer I know is growing and metastasizing. (Yes, I’m in therapy.)
I finally tackled it a couple weeks ago. It took several short sessions over two days because the decision fatigue was intense. So many little decisions about random screws and scraps from projects. It is very true that clutter represents delayed decisions.
I brought out a folding table and laid everything out for sorting and tossing.
Disturbingly, I uncovered…