That being said, it’s much harder to consolidate your belongings and throw things away when everything in the house is associated with a childhood memory. Conversations usually go like this:
Me: “Do you think we should toss this heinously ugly table?”
Me: “ARE YOU CRAZY? This came from my grandparents house! I don’t care how ugly it is, we’re keeping it!” *Storms off in fit of unjustified rage*
Ugliest. Table. Ever. Do you like that awesome 80s phone? You do? I knew it. [Also, please note the corner of the couch to the left of the table. Janine is trying to somehow acquire that couch from my house. That’s another story for another blog post…stay tuned].
My parents still have the majority of their furniture in the house, until at some point they build an in-law apartment and move it all out (except, of course, the things that I have stuck post-its on and labeled as “keeping this forever– sorry Mom.”). Sometimes I think that it would have been easier to move out and start fresh in a new, empty house, but then I think about how much I love the house and all its little quirks, and it makes all the work worth it.
My constant complaining about not having enough space to store things, not having enough time to decorate, and the fact that this adorable Anthropologie wallpaper won’t go on sale doesn’t seem to bother Brian in the slightest. Yesterday we spent well over an hour looking at wallpaper and bedding online, and I only caught him staring at the ceiling out of sheer boredom once…we’re making strides here, people. I come up with a new, usually hare-brained scheme for the house pretty much everyday. My current obsession is trying to remedy the lack of closet space. The house was built in 1890, when people clearly didn’t have excessively large wardrobes and/or nail polish collections. I’ve convinced myself that turning an alcove in my room into a walk-in closet will solve all of life’s problems. I’ll keep you posted on the progress of that…If you don’t hear from me for a while, it’s safe to assume that I’ve been attacked by the clothes-monster that seems to be expanding exponentially in the upstairs hallway.