I rent a simple two bedroom apartment; prefect for my two cats and me. It is quant with a average living room, average kitchen, a decent bathroom and a hallway the cats love running up and down. The larger of the two rooms became my bedroom and the second room…well… the second room is time machine.
To the average person it would look like storage or a giant walk in closet with piles of packages, parcel, bags, and boxes. There is so much clutter, at least 15 boxes and many piles spilling into each other, that the room could be a candidate for a reality show like Clean Sweep or How Clean Is Your House. It appears to be one colossal mess but the room is home to my memories. The contents of those boxes are from my early childhood, high school, college, and travels. I found a craft from my four-year old Sunday school class and remnants of a science fair project. There is a whole Rubbermaid filled with pictures.
I don’t go in the room much. The lack of order is overwhelming and disheartening. I would like it to be organized and tidy but sorting through even one box takes a long time and much energy. I have plans this summer to wander through the past but for now memory lane is growing thick with weeds and my time machine is collecting dust.
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