Strawberries, yard sales, dust-bunnies, and I still haven't lost the will to clean.

I feel sort of sick.
We had a yard sale to day. Big step towards a cleaner house! except that we possibly have more now.
I wasn't here, I was out at Strawberry Fest with my girlfriends. But legend has it that some other family we know had a yard sale as well, and when they got done they 'donated' all their leftover rejects to us. Like we need anything.
In the loving words of Rory Gilmore, "The whole point of this rummage sale is to get rid of your crap, not trade it in for new crap!"
And of course my little sister could not bare to part with some of my stuff, she paid for it... but I don't really care about the money. I care. I'll probably use it for food. The point is that the elimination of stuff didn't happen the way I was hoping. I now own less. But the same amount (if not more) remains in my house. And while there is a sort-of-clean spot in my living room now, the whole house is still a disaster. I'll be working on that.
I'll be working on cleaning the house. Like the day I threw out an old bag of potato chips, the bag said "Best by October 2007" it's now June 2009... I don't think anybody was planning on eating those. And the day after that I folded all the paper McDonald's take out bags that were piled almost to the ceiling on the kitchen table.
I still have to sort out the cereal, we have an old collection that can probably be fed to the birds... or used as wood in a camp fire. I still have to figure out a way to put things away. I need to do laundry, and the list goes on and on.
But most days, I look at the mess and it just takes all my energy away. I want to at the least get mine and my sister's room cleaned up. And the living room, and the kitchen. I could care less about my parents room. I would like to clean up the "dining" room, but I feel that may be impossible... unless my mom someday becomes a sane human and get rid of old junk no one in the world needs. The basement is a lost cause... at leas as long this family lives here.
I just don't see why we need stuff... like dishes we never use, look at, or enjoy in any way. Like stacks of mail. Like old school projects. Like shelves full of books and movies.
I don't have a problem with book or movie collection... but when they eat your house it's time to clean up.
I'm always scared that when I'm cleaning I'll fall into the mess and no one will ever find me again. Or mobs of scary spiders will crawl out of dusty boxes and drink my blood. Or one of these days the dust will trigger such severe allergies that that my head will just explode.
Anything is possible right?
Well maybe good fortune will be with me and we'll have a glean house by the end of the summer... that would be great because I'm just itching to know why my house actually looks like on the inside. I mean I wonder, do we have floors? Or do the piles just go for eternity? And what color is the carpet, if we have carpet?
I would really like to know.