Memories Available
Last night I went back to the old apartment. Yes, I moved last weekend, but I am not done moving. The old place is littered with the things that I don’t know what to do with. And I haven’t even begun to empty the hall linen closet. It is stuffed with things that I want, but I don’t want to deal with. I have an old Cinderella popcorn tin (you know the kind, it is huge and comes with three types of popcorn) that I have had for years. Inside I have kept old relics of my youth – my graduation cap and tassel, old report cards touting my excellent record, movie stubs from a decade ago – good for saying “oh yeah, I remember when I went to see Forrest Gump,” the slat on which I engraved the head of a horse with my wood burning kit – all things that I would never actually miss if they disappeared, but the actual act of getting rid of them is near impossible. I keep thinking that I will want to show it all to Audrey some day, but once I do, it is practically guaranteed that she will never want to see or hear of them again, because how exciting can a movie stub be?
The other stuff that was strewn across the living room floor – the telephone cord, the A/C adapter, colored pencils, hair ties, and other far less useful items – annoyed me to no end as I stuffed them into boxes and paper bags. I didn’t want to litter my new place with junk like that – it was so pristine – but I had no idea when I would have need for an A/C adapter, and I may start drawing again, thus necessitating the colored pencils, and I am always tying back my hair – much to the chagrin of men who like long, flowing hair to be down and flowing at all times. But the stuff that was strewn all over the apartment filled my Durango to the brim, and my new apartment was perfectly fine and dandy without it all – I hadn’t once mourned the absence of the A/C adapter. So why I didn’t just drive right on by the new place and on to Goodwill is beyond me. I don’t tolerate pack rat-ness in others, but me – well I keep what I want, though the Lord knows I should get the heck rid of it.
Anyone interested in a report card from 1993? It’s got all A’s – you could pass it off as your own…course, explaining its South Carolina origins may prove difficult if you have never stepped foot outside of Kansas.
The other stuff that was strewn across the living room floor – the telephone cord, the A/C adapter, colored pencils, hair ties, and other far less useful items – annoyed me to no end as I stuffed them into boxes and paper bags. I didn’t want to litter my new place with junk like that – it was so pristine – but I had no idea when I would have need for an A/C adapter, and I may start drawing again, thus necessitating the colored pencils, and I am always tying back my hair – much to the chagrin of men who like long, flowing hair to be down and flowing at all times. But the stuff that was strewn all over the apartment filled my Durango to the brim, and my new apartment was perfectly fine and dandy without it all – I hadn’t once mourned the absence of the A/C adapter. So why I didn’t just drive right on by the new place and on to Goodwill is beyond me. I don’t tolerate pack rat-ness in others, but me – well I keep what I want, though the Lord knows I should get the heck rid of it.
Anyone interested in a report card from 1993? It’s got all A’s – you could pass it off as your own…course, explaining its South Carolina origins may prove difficult if you have never stepped foot outside of Kansas.
posted by The Narcissist at 9:19 AM
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