Zen Decor is Exclusionary of Wearing Clothes

I sat down two days ago and wrote myself a to-do list. Now, my ordinary to-do lists are full of things like "do your laundry", "put away all the dishes Jesse left about", or " file indiscriminately." THIS list, however. Oh. This list had dates. I scheduled myself to do two things per day, with additional mandatory jewelry-making time for at least a half an hour. P.S. Sometimes writing this blog was one of my two items ... like, every other day.

This came about because Jesse and I are already discussing our next move, which won't come until the end of May when our lease is up and the roomies depart for places north. But I'm ready to move out NOW. Not that I don't love the Margaret, but.... I'm ready to move out NOW. And in thinking about moving out, NOW or otherwise, I came to the always-known-but-never-remembered-until-boxes-are-involved fact that I own too much crap. I have had so many hobbies over the years, so many senses of style that I loved and reminisce over, that the accumulation of love and craft has become an ugly mess. It's not really a "mess," per se, as it is all duly organized into little plastic boxes, but really. Those boxes are filled with things that I would covet only if I were under age 17. 14 for a normal girl. A whole BOX of Sculpey? Really?

I found this book at the used bookstore in Chico, and aside from the fact that there is too much overstuffed furniture, I love Christopher Lowell's You Can Do It! Small Spaces. I mean I looooove it. He decorated pre-fab homes with built-ins and CREATED A BOOKSHELF WINDOW SEAT. *burst of joy* Too bad I'll be renting for the foreseeable future. No window seats for me.

But in all the pictures of all the well-decorated houses and apartments, no one has any STUFF. These people live in beautiful, well-scaped houses and seemingly always design their own loveseat covers from yarn they spun off the sheep they herd in their backyards, but not a damned one of them has an actual sewing machine in their houses, much less a spinning wheel. Where do they keep their collections of tatty books collected and read through the years? Where do they keep the knick-knacks their loving grandmothers bequeathed to them that are ugly, yet emotionally and potentially financially valuable? Where do they put their dirty laundry in the beautiful ZEN bedrooms? Apparently Zen masters never had to contend with American husbands. Tell me - where does the laundry go?


P.S. What I was originally going to write about was my to-do list, and how I did half of what I was supposed to do on other days, and NOT was I was going to do today. And no jewelry.