Minimalist

When did I start accumulating all this stuff? I have begun to think about moving: to a cheaper apartment, to Maryland, or to a new month. I sat in the bathroom this morning and realized I have nine liters of shampoo and conditioner. I have been working on these for quite a while, but then there is a new sale.
Flashback to the trailer in Springfield, Oregon and Dad has just brought home about 30 new boxes of cereal. The Grocery Warehouse is his opiate. He buys cereal I've never heard of with vaguely familiar names. There are Apple Jumps, Fruit Hoops, and Happy-O's. There are boxes and boxes of corn flakes and puffed rice cereals, his favorites. But along with all that cereal, I very distinctly remember the first time I found mealy worm type creatures in the bottom of the box. I quit eating cereal. Dad continued to buy more, figuring the odds of finding bugs still made these boxes a bargain.
When did I start becoming so attached to things? In the past year I have been trying to break this cycle and move towards minimalist living. I'm not even close to the goal, but the contributions I've made this year of clothing, shoes, and bedding would fill a pickup truck. It's a start. I've got another truck full downstairs waiting for the charity to pick it up. I imagine a happy, simple life with the mattress on the floor and a chair and lamp. I don't know why that sounds so good right now.
The truth is, really, I'm tired of taking care of things. All these things. I'm tired of moving them, taking them out of closets, looking at them, and putting them back. They are not sentimental mementos. They are things I know I will need, use, and have to buy someday. But it has become my opiate. I miss the stuff that is downstairs waiting to be hauled away. I will need it someday. I remembered a knitting book down there when a friend talked to me today about how to finish off a scarf. I knew I would need it and I almost gave it away.
If I step into minimal, I can let go of all this needing. I can be free from the pull this stuff has on me. Who is it that said all the things we own are like pieces in a Monopoly game? When our life is over, all the pieces go back in the boxes.
Anyone want some things? I'll unload them cheap, real cheap.