Live well, live simple
I have a very “live simple” approach to life. Meaning, I try not to collect things. I am the person who desperately fights to avoid becoming a pack rat. I live in an apartment and at this stage of my life (meaning: early 20s) there is a certain practicality about avoiding clutter. I love books but even these items I do not keep around for long. When I am done with a book I hand it over to my Mom, who in turn sells the book via half.com or ebay. She loves doing this and I’m more than happy to support her selling ventures.
Recently I was visiting my parent’s home when I walked into what my Mom refers to as the “ebay room.” This is where she stores all the items that will be sold. Most of them are books. Many of them are my former books or books that have collected in my parent’s house over the span of years. I perused the selection, stopping now and again to examine a particular title. I came across one book from years ago that I had once loved and immediately thought, “She can’t be selling this one! How dare she! The nerve!”
“Oh wait, you gave her this book to sell…. and this one… and this one…”
All of a sudden I wanted all my books back. I began making piles of the books that were far too worthy to be sold off at random. I stopped myself when I realized all my former books had made it into the “rescue” pile. If I took all of them back to my apartment I would definitely need to work out where I was going to put them. In the invisible bookcase I do not own? In my closet? Or what about the kitchen pantry?
I was well on my way to becoming the thing I hated most: the pack rat. With this in mind, I returned all the books and left the room. For good.
Recently I was visiting my parent’s home when I walked into what my Mom refers to as the “ebay room.” This is where she stores all the items that will be sold. Most of them are books. Many of them are my former books or books that have collected in my parent’s house over the span of years. I perused the selection, stopping now and again to examine a particular title. I came across one book from years ago that I had once loved and immediately thought, “She can’t be selling this one! How dare she! The nerve!”
“Oh wait, you gave her this book to sell…. and this one… and this one…”
All of a sudden I wanted all my books back. I began making piles of the books that were far too worthy to be sold off at random. I stopped myself when I realized all my former books had made it into the “rescue” pile. If I took all of them back to my apartment I would definitely need to work out where I was going to put them. In the invisible bookcase I do not own? In my closet? Or what about the kitchen pantry?
I was well on my way to becoming the thing I hated most: the pack rat. With this in mind, I returned all the books and left the room. For good.
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