Step one: You leave home, semi-permanently. All your stuff fits in a single carload with space left over.
Step two: You move into your first non-rented abode. You bring all your stuff in two truck loads. Furniture is hand-me-downs and cast aside wire spools. You consider cinder blocks to be good cheap furniture building blocks. Your futon was cheap.
Step three: Marriage. You and your spouse make more money then you ever have before. The crap that was your daily furniture gets moved to the ‘living room’ in your new house. Your furniture is now leather, and has a hide-a-bed for those rare sleepovers, just in case. (rare = never)
Step Four: Your leather furniture has displaced the crap in the living room…but your family room is now full of walkers, high chairs, Fisher Price toys, and Diaper Genies.
Step Four A: Your parents downsize into an apartment while they sell their house, looking for warmer climes. You store their stuff for free, in your basement and garage.
Step Five: Clothes. Lots and lots of baby clothes. Some never worn, but you now have a bedroom with 6 laundry baskets full of clean clothes. 2/3rds of which don’t fit the kids anymore, which never get put away.
Step Six: Enough is freeking enough. You hunker down and get rid of the baby toys and sub 4 year old support gear. Your parents come to pick up the stuff you stored for them(*), The Aquarium that served as nothing more than a Plecostamas and Algae breeding ground has finally departed via Craigslist.
Here’s where things fall down.
*The Parents have a weight limit in the moving van. You end up being GIVEN more stuff than you were STORING.
Your crap isn’t CRAP anymore. Your once voluminous basement is 360 degress worth of heirlooms, memories, collectables, hobby supplies, and things you can’t get rid of because ‘you never know when you’ll need them’…and 12 boxes of receipts that, in 12 years, you’ve never once referred to.
Somewhere along the line all the ‘easy’ discardables got replaced with Good Stuff, Stuff you Can’t Possibly Get Rid Of…and things that aren’t yours. (You can’t pitch the play castle, it holds all the costumes! Think if the children, man!)
So. Me and my middle-class dual discretionary income has won. We have everything we were told we needed. And there’s nothing we particularly want to get rid of. There’s just no longer any space.
I’m not particularly upset. I have zero need to zen-ify my life. I just wanted to bring up something Mundane and Pointless as a cautionary tale for those of you still accumulating stuff. The grass only looks green on this side of the fence.