Well, here we are at the end of another school year. If you’re anything like me, you are wildly finishing papers, studying, and making those final social plans happen that you swore you would squeeze in back in second week. And, you’re living in a wasteland. It always ends up that Wednesday of ninth week is the last day I ever put away any article of clothing or sort through a single paper under the guise that “from this point on, I might as well be packing.” Oh, what fond memories I have of quarters of old — shoving piles of T-shirts into plastic bags and cramming them accidentally into my car along with several electrical appliances I should leave here and books I should have returned. As I look around at my junk piling up, it is hard to believe that at some point I desired each individual thing. Now, all I desire is to see it launched off the bluffs.
To some extent I know why I am attached to my things. Obviously, sometimes I find them useful (speakers, office supplies, cosmetics). Sometimes I gain pleasure from my things (books, art supplies, CDs). The things belonging in those categories are never as difficult to deal with as the next two.
In some way, I own a majority of my things in order to impress others. My closet has a lot more in it than is just to keep me warm. If that’s all I was worrying about, I could go around wearing the same purple sweat pants and nasty flannel shirts every day. Okay, so maybe I do. The point is that it wouldn’t be acceptable for me to have far fewer clothes in this life. I need professional attire, formal dress, and more than one outfit (as much as I wish that weren’t so). I’ve got curling irons, blow dryers, and other beauty products for the same reason.
Lastly, a sizable chunk of my junk is attributable to sentimentality. My walls are plastered with posters and pictures to remind me of memories, inspiration and things I love. This is definitely nice.What’s not nice is packing up my collections of papers, notebooks, and do-dads that remind me of every little fun or special thing that has happened to me. Worst of all, this category absorbs the rejects from the first three categories.
For instance, I’ve got books from old classes that I will never need. They weren’t being repurchased at the Bookstore six quarters ago, and since I bought them, I feel like I don’t want to devalue them by share-boxing them. I continue to keep repacking clothes that I don’t like to wear, based on comfort or size. Sometimes it’s sentimental (old high school play T-shirts). I remember paying good money for my white cashmere sweater, so I continue to keep it around even if it’s got a huge black stain on it. Why is it that I can’t seem to rid myself of an old CD that has a scratch in it?
I may have led myself to believe that living my life isn’t good enough.and that I need something to show for it. Well, that’s poppycock. Especially now in the end-of-the-quarter (end-of-college) sorting and packing hell, we are feeling like we need fewer things to show for ourselves.
So why am I writing about this? My article is timely for two reasons.
First of all, as I keep mentioning, partially because I can’t go one minute without forgetting, the quarter is coming to a screeching halt. It is time to wave goodbye to all the extra garbage that we know is on a slow way to the trash anyway. I have promised myself this time around that I will refuse to pack the things that I keep swearing to re-evaluate.
Of course, I am not advocating wastefulness. I hope all of us utilize shareboxes or online vending to make sure someone else can love what we once did. That makes much more sense than stumbling upon the object three times a year, having a brief fond remembrance, and then hating its existence. We must also remember those things we decided we don’t need once we’ve gotten rid of them, so that the cycle doesn’t repeat. I know for a fact that I have not worn a pair of lacy black slip-on flats I bought on sale last year. With you readers as my witnesses, they are no longer my belongings! Nevertheless, I hope to keep their memory, because I never want to buy a similar pair again.
I suppose this brings me to my next point. I wanted to write this article now because summer is coming. Summer means spending money, right? Sadly, now that clothing gets cuter, shopping is more readily available outside of Prin. Since there is lots of time to kill, I feel like I need to be much more concerned about my wallet. We should be reminding ourselves, as we spend summer days acquiring things, that those things are going to come back to join other things. Think about everything you’d like to own. Then think about it in your trunk space. Perspective?
As this year and this article come to a close, I ask you to do what economists keep telling us to do: spend money. But don’t waste it. We have been taught to believe that wasting money means having “nothing to show for it,” but just because I have nothing by which to remember a delicious ice cream cone doesn’t mean it was money badly spent. You will thank yourself later for indulging in the finer, intangible things of life. Spend summer cash on going somewhere, seeing a play, or promoting an art show. You will still have the memories without the playbill, I promise.
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