We all have it, but do we really need it?

Probably not.  But we keep it anyway.  We hide it under our bed, in our closets, drawers, cabinets, basements, garage, or storage units because I may need this one day.  You wont, believe me.

I’ve moved every year since 2007.  And while I’m no pro, I’ve certainly gotten better over the years.  The best thing I have ever done is get rid of unwanted shit before it’s time to move.  There is no point in packing, moving, and unpacking (if you you ever get around to it) junk from one home to the next.  I noticed that happening when SB and I moved into our second apartment together.  We had hoarder tendencies, although I don’t think we were at risk for losing a body in our home.  There were storage bins that had been sitting in a corner, masked as a kitty tower, that had not been touched since we moved in.  I don’t even remember what was in it; that’s how useless it was.  I’m pretty sure we chunked everything in them, bins too.  We’ve continued to get donate/discard things each year.

On Easter Sunday, while the others were feasting on pastel colored candy and ham, SB and I went through all our our belongs to see what will be donated to GoodWill or thrown out.  I went through my wardrobe and pulled out shirts bought in 2013 with the tags still on.  If I hadn’t worn in in the past year, I won’t wear it later.  We gathered more shirts, pants, jeans, shoes, bags, books and other items that we didn’t need anymore.  Every year I’m surprised at how much we have, that we don’t actually need.  The pic below is only half of what we donated (not the couch, I love/need that couch).


My detachment to things started back in 2009, when my family’s house flooded.  I was staying on campus during that time, so most of my things were fine.  But those things that I left at home for “safe keeping” that I would need one day?  Gone.  Things in the garage that were important enough to keep but not important enough to actually use? Also gone.  Turns out, I didn’t need my old middle school papers or broken childhood toys.  Since then I’ve tried to remember that things are just things.  They can be replaced, that’s what insurance is for.  Sentimental things like my grandmother’s ring and the stuffed camel my dad brought back from Jordan? I’m keeping that.  Fuck everything else.

So get rid of all that unnecessary shit in your life and thank me later.

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