She dusted around them and beneath them. She had so many of them. She guessed she could be called a collector personality but could you have a personality that collects things if you only really collected one kind of item in particular?
She'd really have to organize all of them one day, put them together with her other ones that were similar or looked alike. She could put them in cute little boxes and label them or stack them high on her selves, selves that lined the wall from ceiling to floor.
The collectibles had really just gotten out of control and then they kept moving themselves around. If she wanted one of them on the third shelf from the right, then she did not appreciate when she came back into the room and they had removed themselves to the couch. There just wasn't room for any more of them on the couch!
Her friends did not understand her obsession with collecting all of them. She didn't understand how her friends were without the same kind of collection as her. She just didn't believe that you could go out and home just one. They needed to be taken care of by her and there were so many out there that she wanted to collect.
"Meow!" shouted one of her collectibles.
"Oh! I put up on that shelf for a reason," she cried as she placed that cat back on the top shelf. "Now stay there!," she reasoned with it. "I need to tidy this place up and all of you collectibles are getting out of control."