The majority of my possessions is still in boxes. We plan to move again very soon. The plan is: Live in this country-ass mobile home, cheap as hell, for just a short time. Continue to look for our perfect place, closer to the center of the denser metro area. Leave as much stuff in boxes as possible, because we’re going to turn around and move again really soon. I only have a small pile of clothes out; a few pots, pans, dishes…just necessities.
I’m doing just fine without the rest of my stuff.
I can see why this minimalist living craze has been going on. I’ve heard a few NPR stories, you know, read some stuff: If you haven’t used it in 30 days, get rid of it. That sort of thing.
When I peer into any of these boxes, though, the items that I see seem useful or desirable somehow. I have already pared down my collection of possessions a few times. Every time I move I do that: I shed pounds and pounds of unused junk. I thought I was getting pretty lean and mean.
The main thing I could stand to get rid of is some books. I should take em all out in the yard and burn em. Why am I carting around all these books? It’s a hernia waiting to happen. I think I keep them because subconsciously it makes me feel like a smart guy.