Packing, not in the urban LA sense, where I might have a 'gat' or be walking around 'strapped', but real-life, non-ebonics laden packing: kinda sucks. Packing makes one aware of just how much needless crap one totes around from one place to the other. Crap that's been stuffed into a cubby hole and largely forgotten until it's unearthed for packing, and which brings one of two thoughts to mind:
1) Holy crap!? Where has this been! I've really been missing my insulin!
2) I have no idea what this is, but since I haven't thrown this away since 1993 when I was really into Pearl Jam, it must be really important.
What never runs through your mind is the really important option :
3) If I haven't been missing this: half empty bottle of Wild Turkey / bobblehead of Tony Danza/novelty key chain for a Porsche which I used in a sad attempt to lure girls while dancing pathetically to Flock of Seagulls / syringe / back issues of The Spoon Advocate (activists pushing to legally verify ornamental spoons to their supposed location) / a novella you wrote in 9th grade about a boy and a girl who find happiness and awesomness with laser swords and a really fast wizard hat / a forgotten campaign donation to Goldwater. And since I haven't missed this, I should probably just throw it away.
And since that third option is always ignored, that piece of crap must invariably stuffed into a nondescript box for Depends (or Smirnoff's latest delightful foray into fizzy ciders aimed at tweens) and labelled: "Stuff". Or, if you are feeling really descriptive : "Miscellaneous". Which ensure this crap will follow you until that one fateful day in an old folks home when your heart medication is switched with a triple speedball and at least you've died with a smile on your face and who cared about that crap anyways?
Yes, in the larger outlook in life, hauling miscellaneous stuff indefinitely isn't that bad. I mean, who knows when you might need that Rita McNeil "Best of Hannukah Hits"? But it sure makes packing suck.
1) Holy crap!? Where has this been! I've really been missing my insulin!
2) I have no idea what this is, but since I haven't thrown this away since 1993 when I was really into Pearl Jam, it must be really important.
What never runs through your mind is the really important option :
3) If I haven't been missing this: half empty bottle of Wild Turkey / bobblehead of Tony Danza/novelty key chain for a Porsche which I used in a sad attempt to lure girls while dancing pathetically to Flock of Seagulls / syringe / back issues of The Spoon Advocate (activists pushing to legally verify ornamental spoons to their supposed location) / a novella you wrote in 9th grade about a boy and a girl who find happiness and awesomness with laser swords and a really fast wizard hat / a forgotten campaign donation to Goldwater. And since I haven't missed this, I should probably just throw it away.
And since that third option is always ignored, that piece of crap must invariably stuffed into a nondescript box for Depends (or Smirnoff's latest delightful foray into fizzy ciders aimed at tweens) and labelled: "Stuff". Or, if you are feeling really descriptive : "Miscellaneous". Which ensure this crap will follow you until that one fateful day in an old folks home when your heart medication is switched with a triple speedball and at least you've died with a smile on your face and who cared about that crap anyways?
Yes, in the larger outlook in life, hauling miscellaneous stuff indefinitely isn't that bad. I mean, who knows when you might need that Rita McNeil "Best of Hannukah Hits"? But it sure makes packing suck.
Comments
I did it backwards and downgraded in my last two moves, thus forcing me to abandon most of my 'stuff' if I wanted to get in the front door. :P
Now when I get more space again in this next upcoming move, I will have to go out and purchase a whole new batch of miscellanoues stuff to fill up all the empty spaces. Think of the savings you've made by not de-junk-i-fying!
Andrea : Well, not usually, I just divide into Things The Wife Lets Me Keep and Things That Will Mysteriously Find It's Way to the Salvation Army If I Don't Keep a Obsessive Eye On It.