The Unwanted Transfer of Clutter

Recently, I had friends around, who saw my pile of things to donate/toss, amongst them, several books, a loo block, shoelaces and a blue plastic box. 
My friends pored through the items as if offered some sort of golden ticket. Could they have this; could they have that? Yes, of course! If I can pass anything on that’ll be of value, definitely. Even if I actually wanted it, if it was of more value to someone else, I’d seriously consider parting with it. 
But why did they want it? The plastic box: I know where my friend will keep it. I’m sure it’ll remain unused; a great just in case item; my friend has an extensive Tupperware collection. I know of its unhappy, unused existence, because I stopped using it around four months ago and only just discarded it. Should I have said no? That seems a little judgmental and controlling. Superimposing my values onto my friends is probably a great way to irritate them too. 
The shoelaces attracted my other friend, who’s to put them in his Adidas Superstars, a pair of clean, white laces to replace the clean, white laces. Those replaced would go into another pair, from there another pair, until the twin fogs of disinterest and disbelief had fully descended. 
So, the items went, yet I feel frustration at adding to clutter problems elsewhere, and in so doing, firstly, preventing a charity from making a little money, and secondly, making it from people who may have gotten more value from my discards – the opportunity cost of saying yes was the sacrifice of two meaningful ends. 
What do you do with your discarded items, if people want them, and you feel they will get no value from them?


When Work Doesn’t Feel Like Work

I love to get things done ASAP. It reduces stress. No longer do I walk past things with the nagging internal reminder that I’ve got to do this, I’ve got to do that. That’s draining. 
My ex-wife used to cook wonderful casseroles, and I’d wash up. A casserole dish which needed soaking, a couple of pans for vegetables and potatoes. A serving spoon or two, knives to chop, sides to wipe. I’d do all of this in five mins before I’d sit down to eat. That meant then I’d have only the plates, cups and utensils afterwards. It made me just a little bit happier and it’s something I still do today. 
When there’s a little job to do, do it. Get it done. And experience how much lighter your mind feels.