I know there’s a crisis in the housing industry. I know people bought waaay more house than they could afford, and as a result more people are foreclosing on their mortgages than are wiping their tushies. Almost.
And I’m all for simplifying one’s life. There is so much we don’t really need, and so much cluttering our lives. I love the idea of really paring things down and living a less stressful life.
But.
Short of a complete and total financial and societal breakdown (and even then I’d likely squat in bigger digs) there’s just no way I would live in one of these voluntarily. At least as long as I’m married and have a 4 year old son. And a doggie.
When Husband and I were first together he could not even sleep in my double bed – an antique handed down by my grandmother. It currently lives in pieces under our king tempurpedic-knockoff bed. Even now he feels crowded.
And he’s a loner at heart. He needs time to himself, and I make sure he gets it every day. There is no way he’d keep his sanity in such a small place. And his complaints would drive me insane, too.
Besides, one fart and it’s all over.
Are You Going To Be This Way The Rest of The Time I Know You? 