Not only do I have a yarn stash, but I have the stash trash or strash. Carry with me while I reveal this phenomenon. Strash is my name for those little yarn pieces that just don't quite get to the trash. When I complete a crochet project, I always have leftovers. These small, mostly acrylic balls, and extraneous little things manage to gather without any fault of their own.
When they kill in my hand, I debate their fate. I dare not throw them away. I reach out to a clear, sided, zipped container (formerly the home of new sheets) where I can catch them. When the "prison" yarn becomes full, I make a striped hat with complementary colors. Yes, it might be treacherous yarn that rips my fingers or is impossible to work with. You know the type. You go out and buy something you thought looked so cute just to make it hit you and become your worst nightmare. A vulnerable person that you are, you can't throw it away. You put it in one strash bucket and hope that one day, after forgetting how cruel that yarn once was, you will pull it out again and give it another chance.
Meanwhile, these are worthless prison balls (or yarnbirds, if you prefer) turn on me and catch me with their options. I release some of these refusals from their overcrowded, zipped prison and from them create hatbands and decorative flowers, borders and pom poms. These colorful lollygagging pieces of fluff now tempt me in different ways, that is, as an opportunity to spruce up my hats and other projects. Instead of pooh-poohing small ribbons of yarn that I see as not worth my time, I actively seek them out in the remains and use them strash other people's buckets. If I don't use them all up, they go back into their clear lockup. Always looking for new creations and unable to give up the riffra, I struggle to finish my strash and be free from its evil, evil recidivism.