Every time I buy a durable good, it weighs me down. It's something I'll have to divest myself of later. And while often I can shrug this off, sometimes it makes me wistful.
Like: I have become fond of my vacuum cleaner.
Is there a tipping point of stuff accumulation that creates a gravitational pull toward geographic inertia? I'm not there yet, but I will confess to having cast about for a U.S. location for next year. Just because of my stuff.
Like: I am reluctant to leave behind my car again.
As I set up my printer today, I told myself that buying such items is a just a matter of overhead - the cost of living in a place, and not to attach any more meaning onto it than that.
|All my stuff three months ago.|