I have a lot of stuff, and I have recently been putting all my material possessions into boxes so that I can transport them to a new space between four walls, one much smaller than I currently reside in. This means that either I’m not going to be able to walk safely around my new pad, or I’m going to have to get rid of most of what I own. I’ve chosen the latter choice, which is hard because I get so easily attached to things. When I find something I have forgotten about for months on end, I’ll make a resolution to remember I have it, and tell myself it’ll come in handy if a certain event should arise, and then I’ll put it away somewhere and forget I own it. Hopeless pack-rats have nothing on me. Time to sever my attachments and force myself to gut the clutter of objects which I’ll never use.
So far in the minimal sorting I have managed to do I have found a small decorate box filled with fairy stationary, which I didn’t know I had, and a scary faced angel ornament you could only picture in your most unnerving nightmares. Both have been placed in a large box in the corner of the kitchen marked ‘Charity’. During my residency here, I also procured a dusky portrait of the New-York skyline for free, and that is sadly being placed in the same bundle. There are a few books which have managed to stow-away on my shelves without my notice for the past eleven months, which I will never read – into the charity pile with those too.
Assembled all about me are archive boxes obtained a few years back from my Mother’s law firm, as well as self-assembly storage crates snagged from GAME before they closed. Everything is filling up rather quickly, and I’m running out of space to actually pack things in. Luckily, my new abode is only a fifteen minute walk from this apartment otherwise I’d be in deep trouble. I’ll probably have to cart some things down there in a suitcase a bit at a time before my Father comes down in a week to move me completely.
In the meantime, I’m still clinging to SuWriMos, but finding that a cluttered space isn’t a nice environment to keep a healthy writing ethic. Those of you who have joined the three-month pen-pushing period on Gaia seem to be doing will in your efforts. I’m slightly behind schedule at just under 59,000, but that included the blog posts, and some short-story work. The novel isn’t nearly as far gone as I hoped it would be at this stage, but we’re only just half-way through and we all have many days left before we hit September to catch up. In other words, fear not, the game isn’t over until the fat-lady’s wrist snaps.