Wow.. I really don’t have an excuse for the time in between these posts. I mean, a lot happened. I moved. I got rid of A LOT of stuff. I made goals. I traveled. I got depressed. I had a birthday. Holidays happened. Suddenly it’s the new year. What.
But that’s no excuse. I thought about posting. I made plans on several occasions to write… even opened up the application and stared at the blank, white screen for a few delicious moments… and then I found something “more urgent” like vacuuming, or cuddling with my cat. Super urgent.
(GAWD LOOK AT HER)
Around the time of the new year, I made some resolutions to write more and work on my posting.
So… here we are. King’s honor, friend! I’m The Low Key minimalist. Since last we spoke, I have moved out of my much loved apartment. I have plans, you see, to move to a much bigger city than the one I live in now. I need to save up a bit for the move, so I moved back in with my mother. I like my mom, so this is fine. I brought with me most of my apartment… and my beloved familiar, Rhoda. My mother also has a cat, and Rhoda HATES him. They’re both declawed (Rhoda was declawed when I adopted her) so all they can do is kinda…bitch slap each other.
My mom’s place is fairly small, so I’ve had to put most of my major furniture in storage.
And that’s … a problem. Unavoidable given the circumstances, but I hate that it’s even necessary. My couch is a lovely, comfortable, grey, modernist piece, but as the months go by, my desire to keep it wanes. My dining room table, a fairly small round table with four chairs I already made the decision to sell it, but I swear, have you tried to sell anything on apps these days? People want stuff for like 5 bucks tops. And I feel you; I like a good bargain on furniture, but come on.
My kitchen items and other non-essentials for this new living situation are all in storage, all replaceable in twenty minutes tops. The only items I brought to my mother’s house are what could fit in my room:
A bed + frame
Reading Chair + Ottoman (used as a nightstand)
A stool (optional nightstand, currently a plant holder)
IKEA cube set used as a entertainment unit
My necessary electronics
Smaller IKEA cube set used for the record player, receiver, and various records
Small chest of drawers
A few pieces of decor
My clothing and shoes
My favorite tea cup
There’s of course the requisite bathroom stuff, towels and the like, but in the course of my move, I paired down hundreds of items. Frankly, I was surprised to know that I owned nearly a thousand items. (Does that make you feel nauseous too?? LAWD) Thinking about it now, I still probably own a couple hundred items… It truly doesn’t seem like a lot, until it’s all in the middle of the floor and you’re putting it away KonMari style.
Living with my mother isn’t the same as living with her before I moved out. I love her, and we get along fairly well, but after you’ve been on your own for a few years, it’s only natural to develop your own way of doing things. You get accustomed to certain routines and habits. In my case, when I come home from work, I love silence. Just for a few minutes. I sit on my couch, or lay on my bed and breathe. If the day was particularly stressful, there’s nothing better than jumping out of your clothes and just existing in solitude, naked. It’s a thing, try it if you haven’t. My cat of course is very chirpy and quacky and NEEDS to be gently compressed and have her nose in my throat for like 30 seconds getting those good smells, but that’s doable noise. My mom loves to decompress by asking how my day was, talking about hers, and telling me about any interesting anecdotes she had; all very reasonable, nothing unusual. She’s sweet and personable. There has been …an adjustment period on my end. (I grew up to be an introverted, grumpy nerdlord).
Sometimes she demands to know where I’m going at 10:00 at night… and sometimes i just don’t want to explain that i need a Krispy Kreme donut. Or a booty call. That’s just awkward.
Mom: “Where are you going??”
Me: “TO GET SOME D**K, MOM.”
Haaa….. no. Just, no.
(Is it weird to censor myself on my own blog? It’s not NSFW or anything, but IRL I’m a lil crass. Is it okay??)
Another thing I’ve had to adjust to is that…my mother loves to save everything. Receipts, photos, photos, photos, mementos from trips, bottles of wine gifted from coworkers (she doesn’t drink). She’s pretty good about pairing down clothes she doesn’t need, oddly; she knows her style and has a very tailored wardrobe. It’s more put together than mine is, that’s for sure. But when it comes to objects, I’ve had a lot of push back. Yeah, it’s her house, and the items have sentimental value, but even just…. clearing the countertops in the kitchen, it was something we both had to compromise on. The clutter makes me feel stressed…she needs to have all the pertinent appliances on the counter ready for use. She holds onto to everything I’ve ever made in school and I tell ya, holding on to the shitty art projects I did in high school only serve to remind how once I created art everyday and I’m not even doing that now oH gOD whY AM I A fAiLuRE
She holds on to family heirlooms and I think that’s fine. Collections are okay. I just wish they had an unobtrusive spot to live. I think, if you’re going to share a space with anyone and they’re not on the same wavelength as you concerning minimalism, it’s definitely key to have a talk with them about common spaces. Whether you’re roommates, living with a significant other, or moving back in with your folks for a time. For me in particular, having a clutter free environment is vital to my creative success. Having a clutter free kitchen, the second room I spend the most time in, is important, otherwise I’d spend endless amounts of time just cleaning and reorganizing.
What are some things you compromise on when you live with others?
Should I post some of the things I got rid of when I moved? Y/N