Looking around the apartment

I see too much stuff. It's all around me. I get thoroughly exasperated with it all. If I look at it fairly and unemotionally, it's truly not all that bad. However, because we live in a small aprtment without any storage, all that we have is on display.-"Why yes, we like playing boardgames. How did you know? ...The tall bookcase filled with every game imaginable... next to the front door gave you a hint?"-"Why do you ask if our cats are overweight? You haven't met them yet... ahh yeah, you saw the Cat-so-trim-catfood artistically arranged next to the fridge..."-"Why would you assume that one of us has had problems with foot-warts?!? Oh, the medicated band-aids on display in the bathroom..."Still, I get frustrated. If we were to pare down the amount we have it could be argued by dual personalities that once we move- if we move, we'll need the furniture. We'll have space for the things that we are atttached to... Some of the things we may not be able to get again. That may be good. In fact, that may be better.We used to live in a beautiful old home. (The heating bills were a bitch.) We had approx. 2000 sq. ft. to call our own. Not much storage, but enough for what we had. Since then, we've cut back on a lot.I'm warring with myself (and perhaps eventually with Huzband); do I cut back even further? Or do we live with it?Do I bare the cuticle or grow those too-long fingernails? Either way, there's pain or discomfort.