Sunday, May 6

Holy pack rat, Batman

Okay, now I've always been very conscientious about keeping things -- tax returns, credit card statements, receipts for Christmas gifts -- but I hadn't realized what a compulsive hoarder I'd become until I started sorting through stuff to pack for the big move. Why did I think I needed bank statements from 1998? When am I ever going to look through my biology notebook from 11th grade? Why did I keep three copies of the convocation program from 1997? And why in the name of all that's holy did I hold on to a purse I carried in high school? (An ugly brown plastic one, to boot.) The greater question has now become: How did I jam so much crap into one small apartment -- one small apartment that I share with another person? Fuck, I hate moving.

(If you have a need for any of the aforementioned items to add to your hoard, let me know. I'm more than happy to give them to a good home. You know, other than the Boston sanitation department.)

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