I'm one who lives a life revolving around change, not on a daily but on a constant. My boyfriend has entered his new stage of a newly-found, I'd like to call it an obsession, hobby. With that said, it calls for having to find something to occupy myself with while I tag along his bicycle adventures via craigslist, forums, and the road trips all around the island to visit bike shops. When he had quite an obsession with aquariums, I would always seem to find a place to shop at such as beauty stores and Wal-Mart. Now, I find that bike shops seem to be secluded from a rather urban lifestyle/scene. Fortunately, I've been finding thrift stores around so we both get to go to places we enjoy. I have to get rid of all the clutter in my room first before I can go back into my vintage/thrifting phase, since majority of my room at the current moment is full of beauty increments and a closet full of clothes.
It has come to my attention that I'm a hoarder. Erika and I were talking a few days ago while sipping on our favorite coffee shakes doing the usual: thinking about our confused lives and our refusal to save money. I have to admit, I really am a hoarder, and I seriously think it's in my genes. My mom and my mom's mom both have the trait they share with me to have a difficulty letting things go in hopes that we just might find a use for it in the mere future. Sad to say, majority of the time it's only purpose is to collect dust. I don't know how to live in simplicity; a life of simplicty really takes discipline with a need-only mentality where as I, along with my mom and grandma, spend our time thinking with a want-this-want-that-eventhoughIdon'tneedit mentality. Truth be told I am a hoarder, and truth be told I don't care.