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Published:June 7th, 2007 12:20 EST
The Joys of Being a Pack Rat

The Joys of Being a Pack Rat

By Tristan Mack

I hate moving.  The packing and the unpacking and the moving and going.  It sucks.  This last week I have spent most of my waking hours outside of work moving from one end ofMorgantown to the same end only slightly to the left.  And while hastily making my retreat from my previous landlord, I realized something.  I have way too much crap. 

Dssessions I would never use lay dormant in the deep recesses of the closets along with things I never knew I had.  I own lawn furniture.  I don`t have a lawn.  I also found two printers that no longer worked, a life-size pink flamingo I don`t even ever remembering owning, and a couch that even the 1970s didn`t want back.  Ok, well maybe that was necessary crap, but the color scheme was not. 

All in all, this experience made me realize that, perhaps, I hold onto things for far too long, as though life depended on these little things that have no value and that are not actually needed. Or wanted.

Perhaps I am a pack-rat because it reminds me of memories I want to hold onto, but don`t have the capacity to do so without these mementos.  Indeed, I found I had saved every letter (aside from bills) in a shoe box, going all the way back from my days of adolescent angst.  Good times.  These things were like my scrap book, albeit a more disorganized and oddly created one, but a scrapbook nonetheless. 

I rummaged through these things, letters, small knickknacks, and remembered the times they brought me to.  And then I threw them away.  If I hadn`t, my new place would be on overload.  I`m already wishing I was not such a packrat, but apparently there is little I can do to alleviate the situation aside from praying there is a big enough trash bags the next time moving day comes around. 

But now I am finally moved in, despite what the clutter of boxes and as of yet unpacked items may tell you.  At the moment, I can barely enter my room without tripping, and I would not recommend entering this said area without a light on.  Perhaps one day, these little quirks will become more appreciated, but for the moment it seems that this will not be the case.  And on that note, I should begin this whole moving bit once again. 

Comment on this story, by emailing Judyth Piazza at comment@thesop.org  or join the SOP friend network with your Google, Yahoo, AOL, MSN or one ID account located on the front page ofhttp://www.thesop.org

Comment on this story, by emailing Judyth Piazza at comment@thesop.org  or join the SOP friend network with your Google, Yahoo, AOL, MSN or one ID account located on the front page ofhttp://www.thesop.org