I love small living spaces, which is a good thing because our apartment is teeny. It’s plenty of space for Wilson and I (and Birdie), but not much else. The apartment boasts a total of three closets, one of which is the kitchen pantry, leaving the other two for Wilson’s and my clothes. And that’s it.
I’ve managed my storage dilemma mostly by getting creative — using bookcases and chests of drawers everywhere, storing things in unlikely places such as my car’s trunk, and then shoving everything else under any available covered floor space. Don’t you dare lift our guest bed’s skirt. It’s dangerous down there.
But over the past year and a bit of living in our apartment, it’s become increasingly cluttered. The odds and ends stuffed haphazardly underneath our guest bed are starting to slowly leak out onto the floor. We’ve begun using well-intentioned corners of various rooms as places to keep strangely shaped necessities like bags of dog food, coolers, Wilson’s golf clubs, and, most recently, his third-row car seats. We’re storing stuff in the car, remember?
Sounds like we need to throw some shit out, right?
Wilson — it’s your worst nightmare — WE’RE GOING TO START GIVING THINGS AWAY.
Wilson hates going through his stuff and giving things away. He is, how you say… an absurdly ridiculous pack rat. And because I’m OCD AF, this is a source of friction for us that is solved mainly by me throwing stuff away when he isn’t looking or paying attention. Once he finds out I’m throwing stuff out, he’ll go through it (without me knowing) and then pull his most beloved items and stow them away in (yet another) corner unbeknownst to me. Until I find it six months later.
I think every couple goes through this — one is the crazy person who likes to throw things away and then the other one likes to keep everything down to their dog’s teeth because it all has a story… But true story — some rando in the park the other day told me I should keep Birdie’s teeth as they fall out as a memento. I’ll let you imagine what my facial expression looked like…
Anywho, back to our freakish clutter. One place I really noticed our mounting muddle of odds and ends was on our barcart. While barcarts are great for storage, things should be stored here strategically, and, more importantly, stylishly. Obviously. Ours was doing neither. See the evidence below.
A real mess, huh?
This barcart was doing so many things at once it was having an identity crisis.
It was a complete mess and it was bothering the shit out of me. So I took everything off, dusted piece by piece, stored most of the lesser-used bottles in the pantry and then added some different pieces I had laying around to switch up the look.
Ah much better. Less clutter, more space, less dust. Only the necessities — vodka, gin, bourbon, ice bucket, glasses. Boom. Done.
Birdie approves. And by approve I mean waiting for me to not be watching her so she could take all of my neatly-pressed cocktail napkins and strew them across the apartment. Such a jerk.
Now that the barcart is done, I’m thinking about attacking Wilson’s closet next. Beware things that go bump in the night. In the closet.