Growing up, the concept of space didn’t really factor into my way of living. With my parent’s house as a repository, I bought what I wanted and held onto things for way longer than I probably should have. For instance, I stored a collection of a few dozen basketball shoes in my closet, hundreds of video games in the basement, and virtually all of my school work dating back to grade 6 under my bed. You know, in case I needed to refer to my school work someday in the real world.
Today, I’m challenged with a very different dilemma. While I don’t collect sneakers or homework anymore, they’ve been replaced with a large stash of comic books, board games and Amiibo figures. The video games are still here, albeit split in half as part of the “Great Divorce” my brother and I had when I moved out. Finally, my parent’s house has been replaced with Steff and I’s small condo. The stuff I have versus the space I have are at odds with each other and something has to give.
In Third Person 