Pack Rat

I'm getting my act together. After taking some time off between grad school and that transition o the professional world.

Packrat:

I'm unpacking, trying to make my place presentable. My goal is simple--I just want to be able to say, "Hey--let's meet up at my place!" without shame. There's only one problem with my ultimate goal of cleanliness...I have way too much crap. I'm just realizing this now, sitting in an apartment larger than I've ever had. I've been fully functioning for about a week. But alas, I have 30 unpacked boxes left over.

What's in there? A bunch of crap. Trophies from my childhood. Trumpet etudes from middle school. Crap from college. Articles upon articles from grad school, most of which will never be read again. Bills. Tax forms from the 1990s. Bills from Bowling Green. CD cases, alumni magazines, my editorial writings from Penn State. A coin collection. Stamp collection. Random trinkets that need to be thrown out.

I'm not certain, but I need to throw a bunch of it out!

My mom delights in throwing stuff out. I on the other hand often think, "I'm sure I can use this in the future." I rarely do. I'm just now realizing this. I AM A PACK RAT!