Home Inventory Spreadsheet: Template & Limits
A copy-ready column layout for a home inventory spreadsheet, the formulas that flag expiring items, and the three things a spreadsheet genuinely cannot do.
The first step is not storage boxes — it is knowing what you own and where it lives. Three things I learned cataloguing my whole home, plus a 20-minute start.
读中文版 →Before I started, I assumed my home held maybe sixty or seventy things. Once everything was logged, the number was 128.
The extras are the interesting part. They are not prominent, they take up almost no space, and they quietly drain money and attention. Here are the three things I found after going through the whole house — and a way to start that takes twenty minutes.
Three categories were wildly off:
| Category | What I assumed | What was actually there |
|---|---|---|
| Medicine and supplements | Five or six kinds | 19, four of them expired |
| Cables and chargers | Four or five | 11, of which 3 get used |
| Stockpiles like shampoo and body wash | “We have some” | 3 identical bottles, 2 still unopened |
Those three bottles of shampoo I could not even explain to myself at first. Then it became obvious: every time I was in a shop, I could not remember whether we already had one, so I bought another.
This is not a memory problem. Nobody can hold the inventory of several hundred household objects in their head. The mistake was assigning the job of remembering to my brain, which is plainly not built for it.
Duplicate buying is the least visible kind of waste in a home. It never stings the way throwing something away does, so it never gets corrected.
I tried several organising systems, and nearly all of them started with categories: by purpose, by material, by how often you use it.
Every one of them stalled at the third level. Because categories are for other people to look at — they photograph beautifully. But when you are actually looking for something, your mind is not thinking in categories at all:
“That tape is in the box under the TV stand, I’m pretty sure.”
You are recalling a location, not a category. So what you need to build is a spatial order, not a taxonomy.
Once I inverted the order, it came together immediately: fix the location first, sort out categories later. Categories can be filled in over time. Locations have to be decided up front.
And use exactly three levels. No deeper:
Three levels answer “where is it” completely. Add a fourth and you will not remember the path yourself.
Tidying is something you can finish. One weekend, everything put away neatly, a photo taken, done.
What actually grinds you down is the steady drip of small questions afterwards:
All three share one property: they require you to be reminded at a moment when you are not thinking about them. And human memory for this kind of thing is essentially zero.
I tried sticky notes on the fridge. That lasted two weeks. I tried a list in the notes app, which became a block of text nobody ever opened.
Eventually I accepted something: remembering has to be outsourced. It cannot be run on diligence. Diligence is unreliable. A tool is reliable.
Do not start with the whole house. The whole house will have you quitting by tomorrow.
Pick one fridge shelf, or one drawer Choose somewhere you open every day, with few things in it and clear boundaries. The bottom shelf of the fridge, or the top drawer of the bedside table. Small enough to finish today.
Create three locations One room, one piece of furniture, one container. Three levels, that is all. Do not build out every room in the house up front — create them as you need them.
Go one item at a time. A photo is enough The name, category, expiry date and price are filled in for you. Twenty minutes later that drawer is listed on your phone.
Nor is the goal to make your home look like a showroom.
The point is simply that “where is it” stops depending on luck. Starting from the smallest drawer is enough — once that one is logged you will feel the difference immediately, and the rest tends to follow on its own.
This approach eventually became an iOS app: AllMyThings, named after the idea of all your things in one place.
If you are curious how someone who cannot code built it, I wrote a separate account of that.
A copy-ready column layout for a home inventory spreadsheet, the formulas that flag expiring items, and the three things a spreadsheet genuinely cannot do.
I had never written code and could not read an error message. 243 days, 466 commits and 43,000 lines later, the app shipped. Here is what actually made it hard.