We all have them, cardboard boxes filled with stuff we never look at, but certainly wouldn’t throw away! Yet, we’ve been taking them with us year after year.
If you’re anything like myself, from age 18 on, you moved about once a year. Each September you (or your complaining dad) dragged your pathetic belongings from one crappy apartment to the next. Each moving day, my suburban dad would threaten this would be the last time he’d be schlepping into the city to help. After a harrowing few hours of dragging bureaus up six flights of stairs, he and your city guy friends that you bribed with a six-pack would leave. There you’d be, sweating in the 90-degree heat surrounded by a heap of cardboard boxes wondering what the hell was even in half of them.
After you put your clothes away and made a trip to Ikea to buy weird teakettles and shelves with lots of consonants in their names, you’d forget about these boxes. You’d stack them in a corner, not to notice them again until your 3 month sublet was up and soon it was off to the next apartment.
For myself and a few of my friends I consulted, this routine continued year after year until 8 years later we finally decided to discover what was inside.
Here, our “precious” possessions revealed:
- Journals – How embarrassing. When you see the word journal does it make you forget about these boxes and wonder what you may have left behind at your parent’s house? You know, the ones that may contain a journal or two filled with your high school feelings and dreams. Dear lord. Must find those boxes and burn them.
- Loofahs – I think I used a loofah back in 1999, back when I wasn’t late for work everyday. I’d take sudsy long showers with Bath and Bodyworks shower gel and loofahs. But, while those showers are just distant memories the loofahs and bath mitts keep coming. They’re gifted to me in Yankee swaps, Christmas stockings and gifts from people that have no idea what to get me.
- Interview folders - You know what I’m talking about, those leather folders you break out once a year when you garner up the courage to actually leave your job. You mill around the lobby of some weird building, holding the cheap leather folder tight, you shake a few hands, answer a few absurd questions only to receive a “thank you but no thank you” email two weeks later.
- Concert tickets – Who would ever want to forget River Rave 1995? Or what about Pearl Jam 1999? Seriously, these ticket stubs are definitely worth saving in a box until you’re married and on your 17th apartment.
- Samples & Swag – Butane lighters you got at Clery’s when you were 21, and lots of free shampoo! If there is ever some sort of state of emergency and we aren’t allowed to leave our homes, I know my hair will be clean. There may not be food in the fridge but anyone in my house will be doing facemasks and hair conditioning treatments thanks to my Sephora online purchases.
- Old cell phones – I had the best intentions. I wanted to donate them to Cell Phones for Soldiers or some other non-profit organization that had a need for my crappy wireless telephones, but it never happened. So, if anyone is interested in a box of Zac Morris cellphones, I’m your girl.
The boxes are also filled with scented talcum powder, CD cases and remnants of bright idea craft projects. What one does with talcum powder is beyond me. But, as I part with the contents of my crates, I hope years from now when my kids are cleaning out my attic, that they don’t judge me on the crap I’ve been saving for years.