« Good Lord We Have A Lot Of Shit! »

After several months of having stuff in storage, we finally got our stored junk dropped off at the new house last week or so. We parked it in the garage, and this was added to the existing presence of ALL my music stuff that was already placed in said garage. And, that didn't even include the wooden furniture which made its way directly to the living room, nor did it include stuff that is yet to come from the apartment we are leaving, and stuff that we will have to collect from either house that my old man owns (one is of course where I was living till last summer), or a few things that got scattered about at people's houses. Eventually, it will all make sense. Today it started to make a modicum of sense.

I spent the day on Saturday just making piles of boxes by category. Kelli is really fond of those file boxes from Office Depot. Most of her life is in something like 30 of those boxes. We counted 11 boxes of her books—and growing with each semester—but that doesn't include roughly six boxes of my books too. Oh, then she has more boxes of files this and documents that. I keep all that sort of stuff in big plastic tubs which get heavy as fuck but really are easier to carry and generally more durable. I have recording junk; she has girl knick knacks. I have computer junk; she has an ancient word processor which got her through college in the mid 90s, a beater PC, and no easy way to fetch old data off them (so they move with her often). We both have some inherited stuff from dead family members—things that just don't really serve a purpose in day to day life and suck to carry around if you aren't about to settle down, like it appears we are not. (Our stay is intended to be a year or so—pretty damned fast if I think back over the last year I had.)

We talk about blowing out a lot of this stuff. It's amazing how we, barely into or at the door of our 30s, have collected all this shit. A lot of it was helped along by the few rooms worth of furniture I inherited. I've hardly ever bought furniture. A lot of it was inherited or collected from some seniors I have worked for. Some of it is getting more and more bashed as time passes. I have two dining room sets, or maybe it's more correct to say I have two sets that are equally compromised due to each having lost two of four chairs. I spent time today gluing up the couple that needed love because parts of their uprights just came clean off. I spent the afternoon doing that and partially reconstructing a couple drawers to a chest that got damaged in the storage. The faces got strained, and one came off entirely. It's not the best piece of gear, being stapled together primarily. Now it won't break that way again with all the joints getting a nice bead of glue in them.

The situation with this new house is that Adam did not fully move out. We negotiated with each other and with both his folks (in two different places), and some other arrangements were made so that his stuff would be stored on site, taken next door, or sent to his mom's, among other plans. We kept some things to ourselves—for the first time we actually get to use a real bed instead of the mattress on the floor thing which we have used for all the four years we've been together. Hah. There were also an absurd number of desks and tables that Adam had, just the same as we have. Between us, there must have been eight desks (both classic office desks and some modern computer style desks), probably five to ten end/utility tables, four coffee tables, and three dining room sets. Add to that there were four sofas/loveseats/futons, four Apple computers, four monitors, and something like four house phone setups. Some of this will sort of float in and out of our service. The rest is gonna get crammed into a corner or sold. It was a totally absurd proposition when Kelli and I were leaving home last summer. We had too much to look at even then!

Oh, and since Adam is a musician, now there are two guitar rigs, two drum sets, a number of guitars and basses, and gobs of related shit that we're cramming into one garage. Fortunately there is some overhead space and a smaller room in the garage. Yow.

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