Even though I am moving from one furnished house to another, I found that things stick to me like static cling.
I thought I kept my life simple… if simple was defined by three suitcases of books, a partially functioning fax machine, and a junk drawer that has enough gadgets and doo-dads to install that waterless composting toilet my husband keeps raving about.
Moving is a great reminder that we all accumulate too many things, and happiness is usually aligned with owning less.
So now I’ll attempt to thin out my belongings and get back to why I moved here in the first place. But to the dismay of my husband, I’m keeping the ABBA CD. It’s not my fault he is incapable of appreciating aluminum foil-wrapped Swedish pop icons.