There's something satisfying about fullness.
A full tank of gas.
A fully stocked fridge.
A belly full of turkey.
It's warm and comforting, and gives one a feeling of preparedness. Whenever I'm filling something up, be it a box, or uh, some other kind of container, I can't help but self-congratulate myself with a "Good job, Christina! You're really doing something productive." It's like, I'm adding something to the world. With my stuff!
But thinking about it more, there are some instances where full things are not so fun. Usually because they smell.
Laundry.
The trash can.
These things are also unfortunate because instead of suggesting the completion of some kind of task, it calls for more errands and/or effort on my part.
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