Stuff

You know those boxes of stuff sitting in the back of your closet? The stuff that you're just certain you will need one day? Let me give you a little piece of advice here...you do not need it, you will not need it, and you should get rid of it as quickly as possible. I went through a box last night that I was certain was full of mementoes I would want for the rest of my life, only to discover that it was overflowing with complete crap, the origin of which I cannot even vaguely recall. I know I'm not alone, that everyone has these boxes of unknown and truly unwanted treasures, but I'm here to warn you to throw these things out today and not wait, as I have done, until you live on the 6th floor of a walk-up and have to haul trash bags of junk down five flights of stairs. So please, go ahead and get rid of the four packs of Easter Bunny tissues from your Godmother, unless you are an eight-year-old or a kindergarten teacher you will never need a cartoon covered Kleenex. And you can also toss the study guide to the GRE from back during life plan # 387, oh yes and the 300 giant headshots from life plan # 264. Yes, these things should all be thrown away now, along with six years of very touching birthday cards from people you no longer speak to and the pink glycerin "Princess" soap you can't bear to unwrap. And no, you will never again need the plastic tiara you wore on your 21st birthday. As to the tee shirts you've been keeping as souvenirs, please admit that you will only ever need your high school homecoming tee-shirt as a cleaning rag because you can't risk someone seeing the actual year you graduated. Oh, and photos, yes chances are you have a pile of pictures of people you were so close to you can't remember their names. Toss them. (Unless you look exceptionally good, in which case you may keep them as a tribute to thinner times.)

Yes, it is time to admit that what you thought was a box of memories is really only clutter, your treasures - trash. Stop pretending that any of this crap will one day be enshrined at the Met and free yourself from the ribbons that bind you to the past...the limp, faded ribbons from your junior prom corsage.