I’m moving.
Across town, to a place with a backyard.
So my dog can run around.
I hate moving.
Why? Because I have too much stuff.
Correction: too much crap.
Why?
Why do I have all this crap? What’s the point?
For example, what do I need with so many t-shirts? In case my washing machine breaks, I can go without doing laundry for 6 weeks. Seriously.
18 pairs of shoes?
3 DVD players? Really, Brandon?
2 VHS players? VHS?
Enough cables and wires to build my own television studio.
A giant American flag? It’s too big to do anything with.
I’m not sure why, but I’ve stocked up enough office supplies to furnish a Staples store.
Fourteen packs of post-it notes. Fourteen packs with four pads in each. Multi-colored.
Candles, scented plug-in refills, video equipment, 5 desktop computers, extra light bulbs, 3 boxes of tools, too many clothes hangars to count…
A crow bar?
Will someone please clean me out? Rob me. Take at least half of what I own. I’ll pay you to haul it away.
I want to be able to fit everything I own into a medium-sized car.
Dog and cats included.
Okay, maybe not including the 50-inch television.
Or surround sound system.
Or Keurig coffee maker.
Or video projector.
See? I have a real problem.
