I love stuff. I don’t really care about money. But I love stuff. So I have to work and make money. But really I just love stuff. The best part about stuff? Having it. The worst part? Not having it.

I wouldn’t say I have a lot of stuff, but I have more than I need. Probably. I mean I have pretty lights on the back of my TV. My wife has give-or-take 50 Nike headbands. My kids will never run out of clothes, toys, or books. Except, that’s not really true.

And that’s the problem with stuff. I spend all of this time acquiring it. Loving it. Nourishing it. And then all of a sudden it’s eight years later and I need a new couch. Your PC is slow as shit after 10 years (I do love this new laptop though). Your children grow. Not just as people, but like, literally. They’re bigger. It’s crazy.

I’m sitting around here realizing all of my stuff is old. I have t-shirts from high school, my furniture is more uncomfortable by the day, and my kitchen table wobbles and creaks. “Oh you saved some money? I’ll be taking that now.” This is frustrating. It’s borderline depressing. Please respect my privacy as I order a new hockey stick for large child and underwear with swooshes on it for myself. Thank you.