There’s been omething that’s been reverberating in my head for the past few days. It happened a few months ago, but for some reason, it’s come back and I can’t get it out of my head. Maybe writing about it will help.
When I moved my stuff from my old apartment to the house, my landlord/housemate was surprised at just how much stuff I had, and suggest-told me to get rid of some of it.
“You need to de-clutter your life.”
One of the worst phrases ever invented.
It’s my stuff, not yours. I might have a lot of it, but so do you. I love you, and I love my stuff too, but it’s not clutter if it’s my stuff.