While inside my tiny apartment I become keenly aware of my stuff, which is a word I use to call my things.
Clothes and couches, books, shoes, glassware. I never anticipated this much glassware. My office is a buffet table that sits in the living room across from my clothes closet. My micro space.
Also, where do the jackets go?
I thought there would be more space for jackets. I'm not qualified to be drilling holes, hanging things up, yet, I do it, and the poor wall is worse now, blotchy and skeptical of its responsibilities.
Why should it bother to continue being a wall when so many holes have been made? Is it a very slow and inefficient dis-assembly?
And the shoes. We've lived here for several years and the one thing I've learned is that the shoe situation is always in flux and can always be improved upon.
So we pile away things we don't NEED and give them away. And usually, most of the time anyways, life continues along successfully without skipping a beat.
Most of my possessions fall under the category of COULD COME IN HANDY SOMEDAY because you just don't know when you're going to need something.
Turns out, my apartment isn't tiny. It's actually rather big, indeed, plenty of room for two and more for gatherings.
It feels nice to be squeezed in a bit. Where else would I want to be? A big sprawl? Where would I go? Which room would I use? I circulate my jackets from the hard to reach closet to the easy to find hook hanging in the hall.
It is a circulation of seasonal jackets and it works just fine. Turns out, there is plenty of room for jackets after all.
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