We are currently living in this super small (and I’m not even exaggerating here) house. It’s perfect for just the three of us, but I imagine if only our stuff can speak, they will definitely complain about the lack of space around here. And to think we don’t even have that much furniture to begin with. I grew up in a succession of small houses (we move around a lot, and that’s least seven houses), so small space is not new to me. But this is like an all time record. I’m not earning a lot yet to be able to afford a bigger house, so for the meantime (and while our furniture is still sparse), here we will stay.
My real big problem is that I like to rearrange stuff. I inherited this trait from my mother, who cannot sit still if the furniture doesn’t get rearranged every two weeks. It’s like she gets easily tired of how our home interior looks, so she shuffles them around when she gets the chance. Growing up, I saw her moving things around a million times, and it has rubbed off on me more than I ever imagined it could.
So because of space limitations, I only have like five ways with which to swap things around. And that’s sad. I’m used to at least five. Which is sadder, because who the F cares about those, right? 😆