When we were curled into our city apartment, I longed for an attic and basement. A place to put the shit. Old school files, winter clothes, the present from the in-laws that wasn't quite ready for the Good Will, a half used can of paint, and the old lamp. We had the shit piled high in the closets in the city, and I longed for the space to carefully organize the shit into bins and shelves with labels.

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