So, you know when you have a box of odds and ends that you don't know what to do with, and you just put it in the closet for later? Do you know what happens to that box?
Or do you know where the mate to your sock went?
Or that wrench you swore was in the toolkit, and now you can't find it?
I know what happens to those things. THEY WIND UP IN MY HOUSE.
My house is the locus for a cosmic wormhole, a rift in time and space that dumps random matter into our living room. I'm serious! It's the only explanation for the sheer amount of STUFF we have.
Here's the deal. My husband and I are dancing on the edge of the poverty line. (Usually the conga, but every now and then we bust out some funny white-people hip-hop.)
In the year- and-a-half we've been married, I've gone clothes shopping once (Payless and Savers) and he's gone clothes shopping once. (JCPenny- with a gift certificate we got for Christmas.) We don't buy music, we don't buy movies, we don't buy anything but food and gas and Christmas/birthday presents. Yet our house overflows with stuff.
Now, theoretically, this should be explainable. He had a lot of stuff when we got married, I had a lot of stuff when we got married, and we just haven't finished sorting it yet.
Except for one thing. No matter how much stuff we get rid of, the overall stuff level hasen't changed. It's got to be a wormhole.
This wouldn't be a bad thing, except we are moving out of our apartment in a month. (Not out of Boise-that's in June.) And I have to collect all this stuff. And organize it. And pack it in boxes.
Anyone know where I can get a black hole cheap?