I Have A Confession...And No, It's Not Another Cyber Boyfriend!

I live like a hoarder. Now I don't think that technically I am a hoarder. I just live like one. Ever since I had to move from my crowded one bedroom apartment into a studio, I've been living like a hoarder. Not one of those that you see on T.V. who has 17 dead cats in her bathroom and sleeps sitting on a pile of animal feces. More like I have a path to get in the door and make it to my bed. On either side are just piles of things that I don't have a place to put. Up until about three days ago, I couldn't even sit on the couch because it was piled high with things.

"Well, Wendy, why don't you just put the stuff away and then you can live like a normal person?" You may ask. I will tell you why. I am bitter and unmotivated. Bitter because I had to move, against my will, out of my nice little apartment that, while did have a view of the alley and dumpster, I liked very much. Unmotivated because hopefully (no word from the bank yet) I will be moving into my very own and much larger townhouse in anywhere from 30-45 days. Why would I waste my time trying to come up with creative places to put things when I will just have to move it all again?

So instead, I resign myself to living like a hoarder. At least now I can sit on the couch. Although it really wasn't that bad, because I can see the T.V. and everywhere else in my apartment from my bed. Here is a little tour to give you an idea of my current living conditions.

Coming in the front door. Say "Hi" Annabelle.

Closet to the left.

Bathroom to the right.

Main living area.
Somewhere under there is a couch.

My bed/computer desk/dining table

View from my bed.

View towards the kitchen from my bed.

Dining area--Somewhere under there is a table.

Rest of the kitchen.

Now go clean out a closet or something. For my sake.