Stuff

Tim is a guy who likes his 'stuff'. And Tim has lots of 'stuff'. Lots o' stuff. He's got a three stall garage. Full. He's got a shed. Full. He's got two more smaller sheds. Also full. He's also got a garage in the basement. That's (surprise!) full too.

We've had some discussions. We are moving, and he has a two stall garage, with a second floor. He's got a shed. He's also got two garages at the rentals. He began to fret that he did not have enough room.

I said, "So, maybe you don't NEED all this stuff."

The man was outraged. He actually said, "If I can't take my stuff, I'm not moving," and off he went in a huff.

So, I figured not to worry about it. He'll figure something out. Tim's been working away as best he can with his back. He can't lift. He's been cleaning out the garage. I haven't see it, yet, but he said to me yesterday, in a surprised voice, "You know, I have gotten rid of a lot of stuff. There's a lot of it I don't need."

He may have been surprised. Me? Not so much...