STUFF redux

So, I have successfully moved house. I now live in a place that with only a small amount of work can become a reasonable fortress. I can even extend said fortressing to the whole neighbourhood. Awesome, I’m done.
But I started thinking about stuff. As suggested by my last few posts, I have a metric fuck-ton of STUFF. This isn’t even including the practical STUFF that most humans tend to collect over their life-time. I just have… STUFF. Random stuff. Pointless stuff. Stuff that apparently, I cared about enough to fill my house with. I’m a collector. In a chest, I found some schoolwork from when I was seven. Seven! In another box I found stones. Actual stones, because apparently I like to pick up interesting stones and then keep them forever and ever. I understand keeping the whale bone, but did I really need sixteen seperate stones with holes in? I know they’re supposed to be useful for seeing through fairy glamours, but even I think a fairy apocalypse is unlikely. Ah well, this is all silly. Of course I’m not going to get rid of them.
This packrat tendency made moving house horrible, but it will make becoming a nomadic family post-apocalypse FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE. I will have no way of transporting seven van loads of crap through the badger-infested wastes and I know from experience that my hoarding tendencies get worse under stress or when I have any kind of excuse. “Oh, I can’t get rid of these six bags of pen lids, we might need the plastic!”
Now, I’m a big believer in being able to turn ANY personality flaw or psychological abnormality into a plus point in a post-apocalyptic world, but even I’m struggling with this one. Sure, collecting things is a part of the human psyche and presumably exists for a good evolutionary reason, but I honestly have no idea how a drive to collect rubber ducks will help me. All I can hope is that the apocalypse is a cosy catastrophe, allowing me to stay in my own home, with my stuff. Perhaps I can throw some of the heavier things at raiders. And the soft toys might keep me warm at night.
And on a plus side, I can always use those 20-odd boxes of books to restart society along the lines of my personal tastes.

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