I spent the last three days going through my drawers and cupboards again, and I have left myself with very few things. I've left myself with notebooks, a laptop, ice cream bowls, a microscope, a pair of jeans, headphones, the cloth for my cape, a sewing machine, books of poetry, a french press, a pile of sweaters, a saw, a tube of rare earth magnets, two towels, a baking pan, a box of tea, two boxes of envelopes - one for zines, one for business letters, The Book Thief, my pocket knife, the pod, my violin and music, a duvet, the secret compartment pillow, borosilicate glass cups, two lamps, a couch, a desk, a fountain pen, twenty ballpoint pens, two sketchbooks, two plates, my library card and my banking card, Jukebox by Cat Power, math books, thousands of dollars, one bra, one bookbag, one writerly dress, matches, a bird shaped cookie cutter, The Joy of Cooking.

I have no junk. I have a pile of library books. I will have great fun buying what more I need to set up house on my own.