I recounted the boxes. There are now only 2 boxes at my friends' house. I got through two boxes and whittled them down to just one of stuff that is to be kept, but needs to be organized.
Out in the garage there are 5 tubs of which the contents are known. One needs purging, two need lengthy and deep purging. They're full of memory-stuff that I've already deemed keep-worthy, but could probably go through and chuck more.
(Some shame to make public: One tub is full of shoe-boxes, carefully covered with contact paper, holding all the mail that I received during college, high school, and a few years after college. Christmas cards from the people I sat next to in homeroom. I haven't yet been able to bear opening that one. I'm sure it will put me right into the fetal position. )
12 more boxes, 3 of which the contents are known, the rest need purging.
Lots of just shuffling around so that two half-boxes of books go together to make one, two half-boxes of junk go together to make one, but there have been a number of trips to the good will, recycling, and the library, with more to come.
The way I counted these up, I have no idea what the actual total is, but it's definitely less than it was before. Additionally, I mis-counted the office-boxes, so there are 23, not 24. And there's a shredding extravaganza going on. I'm not entirely sure that the motor on my shredder isn't going to give out.
I've already done that to one shredder in my life. This one was supposed to be industrial strength. Burning out the motor of an industrial strength shredder should be an indicator of the mountain of crap that we are dealing with here. If I disappear for any length of time, check to make sure the boxes didn't fall on top of me....
I finally threw away all the letters and cards I'd received thru college when Stephen and I moved from the condo to our house. That one HURT.
ReplyDeleteeven worse: I threw away all my old DIAIRIES when he moved in. I remember a newspaper columnist (omg I'm tired, I typed communist first) writing that diaries are worse than nuclear waste- you can't keep them lying around, because someone WILL find them, but if you throw them away, someone could STILL get their hands on them! I triple-bagged them and put them in the dumpster on trash day.
I don't regret ditching the diaries (though I'm sure I will in my old age). Sometimes I feel sad about not having the letters anymore, but I think if I had them, I'd be disappointed that there weren't more, like, surprises in there, if that makes any sense.