Last year when I emptied my half of a house, I ended up with too many boxes to fit into my flat. Going from a two-story house to a flat does that. Now, I was ready to get rid of many things, but books are always a bit too close to my heart and I did not exactly know how I would fit my books in my flat, nor how many would fit.
My brother, who is a nice guy, suggested that I store anything I wanted in his own house, where he has a spare room. I could then come at any time and sort through the books, once I was over the organisation due to the split-up. I kept some 20 boxes of books for the flat, and leaving roughly 25 at his place, if I remember correctly.
It so happened that I had room for more books than estimated at first, so time and again I go to his place and take a few boxes, open them, sort through them, and choose which books are going back into my place. So far, I had left 15 boxes unopened, got rid of 5 after much pondering and brought back 5, approximately.
Yesterday I opened 5 other boxes. And everything that was in them, I loved enough to decide to get rid of practically nothing. So those 5 boxes found their way to the middle of my living room slash kitchen slash main room. Today I went in a rush to Ikea, luckily a quarter of an hour away from home, and bought 3 height extensions to put on top of my remaining Billy bookcases.
And lo and behold: everything fits. I’m so happy. I don’t know what I will do for the last 10 unopened boxes, but we’ll see later.
It was like magic, opening these boxes and seeing again all those books I love (French and US comic books, mostly). Like Christmas before Christmas, you see?