It’s official. I give up. I give in. I surrender. MY APARTMENT IS OVERRUN BY BOOKS.
I cannot even tell you how much time and energy I have devoted to keeping the books in my life contained to my bookshelf and a stack on my desk. HOURS. I have also spent mucho money mailing books to friends JUST TO RID MY HOUSE OF BOOKS. That sounds like a terrible effort, truly, but when you only have 750 square feet and your preferred aesthetic is “minimal-minimal-minimal-good-God-get-rid-of-all-the-stuff” and you also have a book-buying addiction, you have to be vicious about what books are deserving of extended ownership and which can be donated or gifted.
Thus, every single week is an exercise in book tidying. Walking around the apartment (OUR WHOLE THREE ROOMS), picking up stray books, and putting them in their rightful, contained place. But no more. I have decided I am giving up the struggle. I am going to let books live where they lie. They sprout up out of seemingly nowhere and I am powerless to contain them, anyway. Look where I found piles of books:
The kitchen counter.
The left side of my desk.
The right side of my desk.
The coffee table.
My bedside table.
And all this without even showing you my overflowing bookshelves. I cannot help myself.
So if I want to maintain even a hint of aesthetic minimalism, my efforts will have to be directed to other forms of clutter. Clothes. Papers. Shoes. Chris’s stuff. (I kid! But I am also giving up trying to get my husband to embrace a minimalist aesthetic — as much as it drives me crazy to see his stuff haphazardly scattered around his desk area, he has so little space to himself. One day he’ll have a room of his own and he can make it as messy as he wants and THE REST OF THE HOUSE WILL BE MINE TO RULE WITH AN IRON MINIMALIST FIST. Ahem.)
For now I am going to let myself be surrounded by books, ideas, the objects of my tenderest affection. Why have I resisted this?? It’s the best aesthetic. Plus it makes me look like the kind of super-smart that is always scattered and haphazardly rushing from brilliant idea to brilliant idea. If I can’t be the part, I can certainly look the part.