Yeah, and…? I hear you say. Well it’s not an inviting cup like in that picture up there. That I’d be happy with. I’d see that and think, ‘Ooooh, what lovely creature made me a cuppa’ and then I’d steal away with it before the maker came back and discovered his tea nicked.
The problem is that it’s not just a cup. There’s a bottle of dish detergent, a brush, several books, random bits of paper, tupperware, a small miniature soccer ball that belongs to a game from the cupboard upstairs, a couple of pens, and a hand towel (which I’ll have you know I’ve already hung up in its proper place more than once tonight).
You see, I’m a bit of a minimalist, who is living in a house with normal people. The kind of people that leave behind evidence that they exist. I however, want the evidence erased. I want to walk around my home in the comforting knowledge that everything is done. Everything is put away and the only thing left for me to do, is to find something else to do.
Minimalism for me doesn’t mean that my house is bare and plain, it is warm and cosy, I have stuff but I just have what I need, no unnecessary clutter. I love getting rid of stuff, it’s a bit of a hobby. I’m not always allowed to get rid of stuff though, and sometimes I resort to casually removing items when no one is looking. My partner is always complaining that if he sits still too long he is going to find himself outside in the bin. (Don’t worry love, it won’t happen – I’ll always need someone to remove the uninvited spiders).
I discovered a glorious site about becoming minimalist a few years ago, even though I already was, and it inspired me to get rid of everything I was storing that I really never used but felt bad to get rid of. It’s just nice to know there are people like me out there and I’m not a lone freak. I sat up late the night I discovered this site, reading post after post, and I couldn’t wait until the morning when I could start purging. Oh what a purge, I filled an entire room full of things to get rid of, and considering I was already a bit of a chucker, that was something. Afterwards, I had so much more room in my cupboards and draws that I really can’t quite fathom why the little I have left, seems to always end up on my bench.
That kitchen bench is my main battleground. I mean, I want everything neat and tidy, but the bench is my last stand. I want to use it, without first having to clear space. The thing that I need my household cohorts to understand is that it is relaxing to walk around the house and not feel the pressure to tidy up. And there’s the problem, they don’t feel the pressure to tidy up. They don’t even notice the stuff and if they do it doesn’t bother them! How can it not bother them? They do try sometimes to get the place ‘Whimsy-approved’ but they just fail. Which I don’t get. How can my obsession for neatness and calm not have rubbed off on my kin?
My partner just laughs at me. He says be like us, we’re happy. They’re trying to recruit me to the wild side, but no no I want them on the crazy (but totally tidy) side with me. Like all worthwhile battles I must not give up. I must hang in there and play the long game. I hope for a future where my partner, WILL, put the dish detergent back into the cupboard in front of him after washing the dishes. Where a random cup, that came along right after the last dish was put away might get washed and dried on its own, so that we may enjoy a clear bench for the rest of the evening. Admittedly from the comfort of the lounge where we can’t even see it, but the point is I know there is nothing on it.
As I think of this beautiful future of clear benches and tidy spaces I can hear the great words of Daryl Kerrigan from ‘The castle’
Tell her ‘she’s dreaming’.