Emptying

I'm very adept at accruing possessions. They accumulate day by day, minute by minute, piling up and choking me, crowding me out of my home. They fill up my wallet, my bedroom, and cover the surfaces of everything over and over again, requiring the same treatment as snowbound streets. You'd think this would be true of everything, but that is regrettably not so. I manage to gather small items with no effort, but the problem is reversed with big stuff.

Furniture is somehow hard to come by. When we moved into the place I'm in now, we had a couch, a coffee table, a plastic dining table and a refrigerator. I personally had a bed, a dresser, a computer desk and a chair of dubious origin. We now have less than that. The couch, table and coffee table are gone. In truth, they could not be said to have ever been ours, but nonetheless we are worse off than we were a little over a year ago.

It's not that hard to get these things, but it becomes hard with me. I have a high personal standard when it comes to safety. I won't have a couch in here that could infect us with some kind of vermin. Bed bugs are a terribly real problem. For the other stuff, it's not so much an issue, but everything is hard to move. I haven't got a car, and one roommate hasn't got a very big one. The other does, and could transport furniture, but schedules are tough.

Money is certainly not an issue. These things often come cheaply or even free, but there is that elusive commodity of willpower, of effort. I am mustering what I can, and I had better get enough soon. I can't have our place looking like we're squatters who must be prepared to flee at the first knock of the Sheriff's Department. I'd like nice stuff that matches, but I'll settle for anything that keeps up off of the floor and maintains appearances. This Buddhist stuff is no good.