Today while tackling my yearly possession clean out/shuffle, I again pondered the concept of modern day nomad living. I’ve got the moving around bit sorted, but not the living out of one suitcase scenario. If anyone has figured this out, please do enlighten me. I’m standing in my sister’s shed surrounded by boxes, backpacks and bags, and I’m simply overwhelmed by the sight of stuff. I have the worst quality a person like me could ever have. I’m a hoarder. To regular standards I’m probably not that bad, but to my brother in law who’s been storing my ‘stuff’ for over 5 years now I’ve got WAY too many things.
Every year I whittle down my collection of books, clothes, Olympic paraphernalia (which is so comprehensive now I could open a museum), paintings, ornaments and personal collectibles. The problem is each year I repeat the same song, ‘when I have my own place I’ll want these’, and as the years go by, my brother in law’s doubt is starting to wear off on me.
I think my clean up has actually had an adverse affect on the amount of items I’m hoping to take back to Abu Dhabi. After reuniting with the better half of my wardrobe which mainly consists of hand-me-downs or second hand clothing, I now have an extra pile of stuff to pack into my already full suitcase. The issue of packing always seems to fall back on the question, ‘where am I going next?’, or ‘what am I doing next?’, ‘what season will it be?’, oh and ‘how long will I be there?’ Australia is a long way to pop back to simply pick up a few bits and pieces. I need some kind of central storage location (that isn’t my sister’s) that can simply post me things when I need them. Let me know if this exists, otherwise let me know when you get this new business venture up and running!
For someone with self diagnosed OCD it’s difficult to live with my worldly possession strewn across so many locations. For 99% of the year I don’t think twice about it, but when I’m back home it’s always here waiting for me. I had dinner with a friend of mine last week who reminded me that my bicycle was still in his backyard. He’d also moved my bed he was borrowing to his girlfriend’s parents house but still had my grandfather’s painting he was looking after in my absence. I might deal with all of that next year, ‘when I have my own place!’