I don't want to be one of the Collyer brothers.
They are the most famous hoarders of all time. They died within days of each other. One of them was disabled and relied on his brother to feed him. The other brother, who fed him an odd diet of black bread, peanut butter and 100 oranges a week, died while delivering food to his brother when a pile of junk fell on him and he was crushed.
That's what my apartment looks like right now.
I have a pathway through the living room. Same for the two bedrooms and the kitchen. But it's not a pile of stuff. Everything is boxed until it isn't so.
What's going to happen this weekend is a massive unpacking where I don't look to put stuff away. I'm just going to take it out of the box and put it on a flat surface.
In moves past, I've tried to make the change orderly but I've learned that takes too much time.
I'm just going to take the crap out of boxes for two days and deal with whatever happens.
I'm tired of not being settled so let's be unsettled but have access to my stuff.
Additionally, I'm coming up on three years since I've seen most of my stuff. I'll unload and if I don't need it, donate the stuff to local agencies.
In the way I've lived over the last half decade, stuff means less. Yet it will be fun to see what I've missed and how I'll use it.
Please look up the stories on the Collyer brothers.
And peace unto the Ukraine, the lives of the Collyer brother and unto all of you my brothers and sisters.