KonMari: The Life-Changing Magic Of What The Hell Happened To My Living Room
If you haven't heard of the KonMari method of "de-cluttering," you obviously live on Mars (there's water there though, so you're going to be just fine) OR, at the very least, you have never seen Pinterest. Let me say, I was a skeptic. And by skeptic I mean, screw you, Marie Kondo, and the book you rode in on. OK, that's a little harsh. What I really mean is, "No, not one more method of de-cluttering/simplifying/minimizing, all words that just mean getting rid of your things!"
I have a lot of shit. I like all my shit. I have knick-knacks and bric-a-brac and tchotchkes -- and other clever names for things that are really just shit. I've always had a lot of shit. As a child I would regularly plot the fire escape route from my bedroom, a key part of which was what shit I would grab as I fled. For the most part there was a core group of items: my large framed poster of a white tiger (they are RARE), somewhere between one and seven Cabbage Patch dolls, a giant stuffed buffalo that I called Buffy, and my parakeet, Tweety (I was 8, OK? Not every 8-year-old can come up with a clever name for a stupid bird/buffalo.)
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I have a lot of shit. I like all my shit. I have knick-knacks and bric-a-brac and tchotchkes -- and other clever names for things that are really just shit. I've always had a lot of shit. As a child I would regularly plot the fire escape route from my bedroom, a key part of which was what shit I would grab as I fled. For the most part there was a core group of items: my large framed poster of a white tiger (they are RARE), somewhere between one and seven Cabbage Patch dolls, a giant stuffed buffalo that I called Buffy, and my parakeet, Tweety (I was 8, OK? Not every 8-year-old can come up with a clever name for a stupid bird/buffalo.)
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