I've spent the past week dejunking my house . . . and I hope, by extension, my life. The best part about 1,096 square feet is that with only 220 square feet per person you have to really make choices about what to keep and what to toss.
Plantboy has built wonderful shelves in the garage and keeps finding ways to stuff more in our overburdened attic which helps a lot. Still, we've started to have a running joke around here that we can really only have half the house clean at once because we just have to move stuff somewhere else to have another place uncluttered.
I have to admit, however, that we are getting to a place where NOTHING helps as much as I'd like. Getting the Christmas stuff out of the house has helped with clutter, but there is still much work to be done. I'm thinking of getting a small storarge unit.
Even writing that last sentence makes me cringe. I hate that I'm so attached to my stuff. But the thing about my home is that when I'm here I feel really safe and secure . . . like I belong here. I'm the first to admit that the house isn't without its difficulties. I mean, who builds a house with no towel racks? I'd love an oven fan and a more reliable stove. Wouldn't it be great to be able to walk more than a few feet without having to walk around a piece of furniture? Hard wood instead of old carpet? And I often fantasize about having a laundry room inside, with cubbies for everyone to hang their own stuff. A little sitting room at the front of the house as a buffer zone to all the chaotic stuff.
Every few months since moving to this house (5 1/2 years ago) I have a dream that I discover new rooms in the house. These rooms are enormous and I am always so happy and weepy and full of plans for how to rearrange things so everyone is comfortable and not on top of one another.
Talk about a first world problem!
It just seems that lately I've had to really remind myself to be grateful when it comes to the space we have. It isn't my default mode.
I don't know what the next year will bring. Ideally some kind of part time employment that pays well and allows us to think about resolving our growing pains. Or getting poor Plantboy a vehicle that isn't a total embarrassment.
Here is the thing, though. What I think is ideal, and what is actually ideal are not always the same thing. Maybe more humbling is needed. Maybe more gratitude is needed. I'm not going to gain either of these things by finding the ideal job and getting to move. 2013 could be very interesting.