It's kind of frustrating that I'm consumed with where my stuff is going pretty much twenty four hours a day... We tried to get the stuff out of the garage so The Dad could get his car in before it snows but it's still not quite ready. What we did do - with no other choice - was bring the stuff that was in the garage back into the game room - where it came from... so it's a never ending battle and never ending movable puzzle. It didn't make sense to bring it to storage when we are in the middle of going through all of that there. It's also the holding ground for things I'm re-discovering from storage... either stuff I didn't realize was there or stuff I just found that was packed up for me. It's just really, really hard and frustrating and makes me sick. And it's making my Dad sick too.
Even if I had the money - say a little more than our original mortgage - to get a place of my own... you know with a spectacular view of the city, perhaps - I still wouldn't have the space for everything. Yeah, I have too much stuff. We all know that. I love it all, though. Well, most of it. I'm trying to weed through it little by little and get rid of some of the things I don't want but I don't have the time to sort how I would like to. Anyway, the things I have make me happy. They are mine. I like surrounding myself with them. I like looking at them. I think that's a really good thing too.
I see some of the residents everyday in their space - usually shared - no bigger than a dorm room. All their possessions in that tiny place. It breaks my heart and I'm envious all at the same time. I couldn't host a party here if I wanted to. It was already loaded to begin with and bringing another house into it is next to impossible. That's not fair to me. It's depressing and makes me mad.
One day I'll be able to put my head on the pillow at night and be calm...
I hope.
For now, I have to look at this.
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