Round two at the storage unit.
We’re still not one hundred percent confirmed on the move to Atlanta. This means I have to get rid of things in preparation and still keep things in preparation. I was forced to save and get rid of things at the same time. I took the bus to the unit with the great idea to make a huge dent in my treasures. In the end, two hours later, I got rid of a lot but there was really no discernable difference in mass when it came time to shut the door.
Hundreds of plastic hangers found their way to the dumpster along with several reams of printer paper and office supplies. I threw away enough folders, paperclips, pens and magnetic business cards to open a small office supply store. Two name plates with my name on them from old desks and one from the door to a former office. Hundreds of lapel pins that said “Personally Referred”, business cards, training handouts from business speaking events I hosted and while I was at it I threw out several manuals for training me for several jobs I’ve had in the past. I don’t know why I saved them but I knew I wasn’t going back to work at Fridays or Dairy Queen any time soon.
The reason a lot of things are still there in storage is I can’t part with them just by throwing them away. I think there’s something in many of us that sees some value in objects we paid for and so can’t just throw away that value. It’s the logic that keeps thousands of Trans Ams up on blocks in the front yards of hundreds of trailer parks.
Seven garbage bags full of clothes can attest to the fact I have at least a little of that white trash hoarding gene. I remember buying these suits and looking great in them. I remember who gave me this tie and where I first wore this dinner jacket or that cumber bund. But the fact that they’ve all sat in a box for the past two years means I can definitely do without them. Some of the nicer things have remained looking nice because they refuse to fit me any more. Hope springs eternal on the front but I really can’t haul around jeans for the next several months while I whittled myself down a few waist sizes to fit in them again. Even if they are really nice jeans.