In the midnight hour… or 4.30 am

I’m moving house next week, so pretty much all I can think about is how I’m going to manage to fit all of my stuff, currently spread around an entire apartment, into one bedroom.  This is, of course, an impossible task.  For example my two armchairs are definitely not going to fit.  So the next questions are, desk or bookshelf?  How much space will be left after I move my bed in?  Where will my shoeboxes stuffed with amassed ephemera go?  And my floor lamp?

In a way it’s a good thing, because I have to go through all of my junk (I’m a total hoarder) and throw stuff away.  Like years worth of bank statements and payslips (I’m talking going back to the late 90’s).  CDs I bought once upon a time that I now regret buying.  Or don’t regret but don’t ever want to listen to again (there are also the ones that I don’t regret and won’t throw out but also won’t ever tell you about).  Clothes that I never wear anymore and never will again but for some reason still have hanging around.  I’m finding it’s kind of freeing throwing things away.  Like letting go of the past in a way.  Of course there are some things that I will just hold on to.

You would think that I’d be used to it.  After all, since I moved out of home in 1999 I’ve moved at least, let’s think about this now… 15 times.  But no.  And I’ve consistently managed to accumulate more stuff over the years.

Now, about my dining room table…

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