I am frustrated. I am frustrated by my house and the amount of 'stuff' we have littered about it. I am frustrated that every surface I look at seems to be covered with 'stuff'. Books, ornaments,glasses,clothes,shoes,papers....stuff.
It distresses me. It makes my mind feel disturbed and messy. It makes me dread people coming to my house.Every time I clear up, it reappears. We are all guilty of its dumping. I cannot blame the children alone, or my husband. I am also a guilty party.
We come home and leave our shoes, coats, bags in the hallway. 'Stuff' is strewn up the staircase.'Stuff' is strewn along the landing. Piles to be taken to the charity shop. Piles to be put in the loft. I cannot bear it.Our house is too small and our possessions are too big. The combination along with four people who have too many outside interests results in... mess. Clutter.
When we moved here 12 years ago we had 12 years less 'stuff'. The house was neat, tidy and organised. For 12 years we have indulged in consumerism in a relentless and enthusiastic maelstrom.Our shameless capitalism has produced a house bulging at the seams with everything one would ever need to live comfortably in the modern world. And it is ghastly.
We are never here long enough to have a good attack of sorting. We are studying, sporting, visiting, buying more 'stuff' that we don't really need.It is a sickness and it is driving me nuts. No sooner do I sort out one room than another is buried in an avalanche of things.Enough is enough.One of these days I am going to wake up and find myself unable to get out of bed because I have been buried alive under a pile of pointless possessions.I will be one of those odd bag lady types who makes a trail through carrier bags filled with old tins of peaches.
I want to be an elegant lady who lives in a house of clear surfaces. The change starts now. This is it. Black bin bag, come with me.... its time to get minimalist before I drown.