Here lately, I thought I've been doing pretty well when it comes to downsizing. Still have a ways to go, of course, but I've made some pretty good strides. But all it takes is one quick little occurrence to make you see how far you have left to go. There's been some plumbing issues in my building recently (it's an old pre-war building owned by a landlord who is notoriously stingy), and even though it isn't originating in my apartment, the bulk of the pipes that are rotted out are located beneath my floor and in my walls. So the Super and his team, who are already overworked as is (3 guys are the sole workers for like 30 buildings, he said), and they're about as gruff and humorless as you'd expect. Well, they absolutely don't get the whole collecting thing. They've been in my apartment a handful of times over the years, and seemingly forget every time, or are just so amused by it every time. Thank goodness I've either secured things enough or they've just wisened up a bit, because the first few times they came over, they were knocking stuff over left and right and getting annoyed by it.
Now, I've probably cut back on all my stuff by maybe 1/3 or so since living here, but even still. Today they had to get into my hall closet and rip into the wall, which meant I had to take all the extra boxes and stuff I keep in there out. I don't know if I quite realized how much was down there- it's a deceptively large little nook. In my defense, I only keep the boxes for stuff that's super fragile, that, whenever I move, will need extra protecting. But there's nothing like having to quickly take a whole bunch of stuff out of a closet with 3 big, impatient dudes standing over you waiting to do their job, to make you realize just how
much of it there is. Truly, I thought I was doing pretty well, but a lot of this stuff I'd forgotten about- boxes, or small bins and bags of stuff I'd consolidated and put away for one reason or another and totally forgotten about (time has been really weird lately). I've had every intention of going through it all and downsizing more, but you know how it is- life keeps getting in the way. Anywho, now all that extra stuff is just sitting in a pile in my bedroom, making it feel even more cramped. I have no intention of ever stopping collecting fully, however irresponsible that is, and I'm really starting to get to a point where I don't feel the need to explain my hobby and why it makes me happy to people who don't get it. Still, it's moments like these where I suddenly
feel the amount of it and am forced to confront it, and I kinda wish I could just hit a reset button. Probably a good thing in the long run- I probably have another day or so before they're done with the work, which means I'll be able to go through it all before putting things back. So it's just life's funny, forced way of making me learn a lesson, and ultimately it's not
thaaat much stuff, but yikes. Nothing like a bunch of judgmental gazes and a forced time limit to make you question everything.
