I hate stuff, we just had a yard sale and we are still drowning in stuff. Part of this is because we are living in my parents basement and don't have kitchen, bathroom, dining area or closet of our own. We have three rooms and one closet for three of us. My make up, hair stuff and jewelry are crammed in the shoe box with me, being placed on shelves on our wall along side the shrine for my God and Goddess, contact care supplies, my husband's medications, and a small camp mirrior that my cats are fascinated with. Oh yes I forgot to mention, we also share this space with our two cats and all the stuff that goes with them, the two litter boxes, water and food bowls, the mammoth cat fort tower of doom, and more fuschia mice, plastic snakes, and catnip stuffed majiggers than I care to count.
Lately I have been on a kick of simplifiying. Trying to get rid of things we don't use everyday. Trouble is we are also looking for a house, so some things that we don't use daily are still things that we use, and will need once we get into our own place. We end up with piles. Stuff to wash, stuff to donate, stuff to store, stuff to go away. Stuff to trip over, stuff to stub my tow on, stuff that I can't find when I need it, stuff that would be helpful if we owned a garage, stuff that could build a super computer capable of taking over the world, stuff to fill a toy store, stuff to stuff other stuff.
Did I mention I am also currently job hunting? Yes I am seeking a medical assisting job. My interview clothes they are hanging from one of the exposed iron I beams in our basement, in my bed room, my dress shoes likely have to be shined again (thank the stars for my military trained hubby) and my nylons have more clear nail polish than a salon thanks to the cats.
I hate stuff. I suck at stuff management. A domestic goddess I am not.