Who You Foolin’?
After an extensive shopping spree last weekend I realized I’ve been going about this whole “living with less” thing the wrong way. Shopping is fun and we should acquire as much as we can. Sure, when my credit card bill arrives it’s going to be a bit of a nightmare, but I’ll just pay it off with another card. That is the American way after all.
When I returned to my apartment after the binge, me and my bags spilling out of the cab, my doorman helped me up to my apartment. From there I left my new wares in piles, mounds really, with no rhyme or reason. Suddenly my organized home resembled that of my first client, a woman who lived in a large studio overlooking Washington Square Park who hadn’t seen the top of her furniture in years. Cozy was how it felt. And with the sun shining through the windows, the colors and variations of the mismatched items was magnificent. Whimsical even.
It’s now been a few days and I’ve yet to put anything away, because, well, I don’t have the space. So I just walk around it. Extra steps = extra calories. Am I right or am I right?
I sat on a small sliver of available space on one arm of the couch and wondered, Why have I been trying to downsize all these years? Shopping and collecting is fun, as is not putting away a single thing. I even came up with a new motto: If you have a little free space in your home, fill it!
At one point I got up and walked to the bathroom, tripping a few times on the lilting piles, but I just rubbed my shins and kept going. I can overlook the black and blue marks, even the limited floor space, if it means holding on to this carefree feeling. Why has no one ever told me how enjoyable it is to shove stuff into cabinets? No longer am I going to waste my time organizing when I can spend it acquiring. Sure, about 99% of the stuff I bought I don’t need, but so what? Forget less is more. More is more! A revelation folks, is what it is.
And while I can no longer have friends over since there’s no place to sit, I do have stuff to keep me company. Loads of it! Of course, if I do get depressed living like a hoarder, there’s always retail therapy.
Who you kidding? April Fools!