It was a hectic week in Kevland (that’s right… I have renamed the city where I live “Kevland”). At work, I had to endure numerous, long, boring meetings. And, at home, I have been busy packing up my stuff in anticipation of my moving to a new place.
I am a “learn from your mistakes and grow from them” kind of guy, but it is clear I have yet to fully learn my lesson when it comes to the moving process.
On May 29, 2005, at my old blog, I wrote:
A forgotten part of the moving process is you have to clean your old place. And right now, my old place looks like a garbage can exploded inside of it. Why is my brother such a slob? Why do I keep everything ever given to me?
An hour ago, I came across a November 2002 memo from (my former place of employment). Why did I hold onto it? Did it strike me as funny at the time? Did I keep it in case I ever wanted to spit out some gum? Was it a magic memo that promised to grant me three wishes? And if the latter, where are my millions of dollars, my Ivy-league educated supermodel girlfriend, and my ability to turn invisible?
On August 19 of last year, I wrote the following post here at SKOS:
You would think I’d have learned from my move in 2005 to do a better job of decluttering. But sadly, I did not learn my lesson. I have too much old junk. Graded exams and assignments from back in my teaching days fill cardboard boxes in my room.
Why do I keep them? I guess I have this paranoid feeling I will be “audited” someday. The principal of my old school will contact me asking to confirm the quiz grade of some random student back in 2003. I hate audits.
I have never considered myself a pack rat, but I clearly need to wake up and smell the numerous boxes of crap I should have gotten rid of years ago.
Thankfully, after writing that last post in August, I got rid of the boxes of graded exams and assignments from my teaching days. If the principal of my old school contacts me asking to confirm a grade of a former student, I’ll just make up something. If I liked the student, I’ll tell the principal he or she had a 100 in my class. If the student was an evil spawn of Satan, I’ll tell him the student had a 13.
Fair? Well, no.
Sweet karma goodness? Absolutely.
Anyway, despite the fact I have made strides to rid myself of old junk, my place is still packed with things I do not need.
Do any of you still have shirts from your freshman year in college? I do. In fact, I have ALL of them.
Snake skin cowboy boots I last wore in 1996 and are probably too small for me now? Still have them.
My baseball cleats from my senior year of high school? Still have them.
A Hootie and the Blowfish CD? Yes, I still have it.
It’s a good thing I am frugal and don’t buy something unless I really, really need it. Because, if I wasn’t like that, Lord help us…
Kevland would be FILLED with junk from 1996.
Are any of YOU pack rats? What sort of things do you still have that should have long, long ago been discarded? Let’s hear it, people. Speak now or forever hold your soundtrack to the Titanic movie.