Moving, Moving Pangs

Life Goal: Everything I own can fit in my car, or is my car.
Ongoing, increasingly grueling performance piece: Everything I own does not fit in my car, and has to fit in my car.

Okay. I have been tied to a storage unit for the last year, but I moved away from it, and organization experts say that if you want to get rid of something, box it up and don't look at it and a year later you won't know what it is or care. But that didn't really happen to me, since my stuff is all my clothes, art supplies, and art (like my car). I just felt incomplete in my East Coast sublets, like where are my oil paints? Where is my yarn? Where are my paintings? Where are my shoes? I found that I have gathered my things as tools to be myself.

I have a bit of an aversion to storage units. I have a friend who told me a couple of years ago he feels overwhelmed by his stuff since he moves all the time. He said his ideal would be a totally clean, minimalist house (and this would fit his aesthetic and interests very well I think), with a storage unit for everything he wanted to hold onto. Now he has a remote storage unit that's huge and totally full, and also his house is one.

So, right now nearly all my stuff is in my car. But some of it is on the floor of the room I'm staying in because it wouldn't fit in the car, and some of it-cello, brick barbell- is at my Dad's house, and a tiny bit of it is in my mom's storage unit, and a lot of it is in my mom's storage unit but designated for a trip to the dump.  Oh no, and some of it is in the fridge and freezer.

I think this happened because I didn't do my idea of lining up everything I own in order of what I would save in a fire and then when I got to the first thing in the line I wouldn't save, the rest of the line is gone forever.