My Life in a 10 x 10 x 10 cube

I wouldn't say I typically think of my life in material terms, but last weekend I did exactly that. With Step 2 of "the plan" completed, it was now necessary to vacate my house in order for my new renters to move in. (Believe it or not, they didn't want all my crap in the house when they moved in. I know; weird, huh?)

Now, under normal circumstances moving usually forces one to come to terms with what he or she truly "needs" vs. what he or she "would like to keep". But let me tell you, when you're moving into a tiny space that you're paying for by the foot, this confrontation of need vs. want is transformed from the typical problem child to something more like a kid freaking out on an overdose of ridalin. In this world of consumption and possessions, accumulation is suddenly a large and looming enemy. Simplicity and minimalism is the goal, the new idea of perfection. And that is how I came to store my entire life in a 10 x 10 x 10 cube for $69 a month (buy two months, get one free!)

None of this would have been possible without the super-packing skills of Andi Vann-Lo ("Oh wait, cram this in before you seal it!"), the let's-err-on-the-side-of-throwing-it-away attitude of Diana ("Are you really going to miss this two months from now??), the uber-tetris skills of Brian and Corey ("Wait. I think if we move this over here, we can fit an extra box over there...."), the brilliant space saving ideas of Kelly ("Ya know, the carpets take up less room if you unroll them on the ground and your furniture won't get dirty"), the faith of the Bedients to counter my it's-never-gonna-all-fit attitude ("Remember the japanese maple?? We never thought we could move it and now it's the tree of faith!") as well as the many, many other helping hands over the last week (Terps, Mausses, Bowkers). Just when I'm feeling like I can't get it all done, the Lord reminds me just how many helping hands he's given me.

All I can say is thankyouthankyouthankyou.