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A year and a half after our second move of last year, we just moved again. I’ve only just begun unpacking and we’re mostly living out of boxes until we get new hangers and cabinets.

Hey, remember when I wrote this rant about how I was going to “live small”? For the most part, we’ve done a pretty decent job of avoiding the accumulation of crap we don’t need. However, what I didn’t tell you last time was that our apartment was a mere 500 sq feet. Our bedroom closet was half the standard size and two fully grown adults were sharing it.

At the time, we were willing to compromise the space for the location, as it’s right in the heart of inner SE Portland, where the houses and trees are old and overgrown, with lots of coffeeshops, bars and restaurants within walking distance. We quickly fell in love with the local gourmet markets, brunch spots and tent-covered fruit market that were within walking distance. Our managers were pretty good people, too, as was the landlord. Our maintenance guy was competent and reliable. The only thing I could not love about this place was its size and, for a year, that was tolerable because there was so many other things to love.

Then they raised the rent on us twice after our lease had ended. They were also doing renovations to the new units that were so loud and fumes so strong that it was like our own apartment was undergoing these renovations, minus the benefit of having a renovated apartment. Once the renovations were over at our building, neighboring houses and buildings took turns doing their own constructions. Then the electric company decided to find a quiet time in between to start up a chainsaw band. Then the neighbors in the backyard behind us started mowing their lawns at ungodly hours and inviting their loud nasal-voiced mother to get drunk in the evenings. Since that left us with some quiet daytime hours, it was only natural that the neighborhood dogs would start barking in chorus with such frantic fervor that you only see in the movies when the end of the world is nigh, except they were doing this every single day, at least twice a day. Last year, I had wanted to move here because it was so quiet and peaceful. This year, it seemed like a whole different town. Also, it seems like every new neighbor is a chain smoker and their smoke would come in through our windows in the summer.

A year ago, we were able to validate living in such a small apartment. Now, it seemed foolish to stay, especially when we saw there were better options in the area for more reasonable costs. We ended up moving about 5 minutes away to a beautiful new apartment in a small community managed by a kind elderly landlord. No dogs, no smoking and a lot more amenities for only a small raise in rent from our last place. I won’t get into the details of all the amenities but, yes, Bella gets a patio again.

I am not completely dismissing my intentions to live minimally. Our new apartment is much bigger but, hopefully, it won’t encourage me to return to my old hoarding habits. I realized I’ve been holding on to a toaster for over a year without ever using it. Also, my yarn collection is mounting again. We haven’t used our a/c since moving to Portland because it didn’t fit in the windows. We certainly won’t be using it now, since our new place already has an air conditioner. Otherwise, I can’t think of anything else that we’ve kept in the household that we don’t use regularly. Maybe I’m just in denial about some of these things, like high heels.

Overall, the boyfriend and I both find that we’re not as attached to our material belongings as we used to be, especially when we compare ourselves to others who believe they “need” more space for things they think they’ll one day need. My mom is trying to convince me that I should hold on to our old air conditioner because we might move out one day and need it. It made me realize again just how much of a hoarder she is and how that has always affected the crowdedness of our homes and our very lives when I was growing up.