Suddenly dealing with emotionally and physical stored and neglected crap is getting a bit easier. Seeming a bit more realistically tackle-able, as the tasks get smaller and more clear. As my head gets clearer, so too do the piles in forgotten corners of my apartment. Eventually it really will be livable in here.
Now, exiting the world of metaphor for a moment, I still am having a hard time figuring out what to do with mementos and the like. What the hell do you do with these things aside from sticking them in a closet and forgetting them till the next time you move? My dad gave me an etagre (I can't tell if that accent's right, stupid tiny font) which I decided to completely cram full of toys. Holy crap that's an explosive bit of colorfulness in an otherwise totally purple apartment. So, well, there's 3 boxes sorted in a satisfactory fashion! But letters and tiny nick-nacks....WTF. I'm torn.
I've also discovered the best way to get me to write is to put me in panic mode. I was stressing over a blog for work when it accidentally got posted after about 2 sentences had been put in. Suddenly it didn't have to be this big fuckin' production, and I finished writing the whole damn thing in about 5 minutes.
Now, exiting the world of metaphor for a moment, I still am having a hard time figuring out what to do with mementos and the like. What the hell do you do with these things aside from sticking them in a closet and forgetting them till the next time you move? My dad gave me an etagre (I can't tell if that accent's right, stupid tiny font) which I decided to completely cram full of toys. Holy crap that's an explosive bit of colorfulness in an otherwise totally purple apartment. So, well, there's 3 boxes sorted in a satisfactory fashion! But letters and tiny nick-nacks....WTF. I'm torn.
I've also discovered the best way to get me to write is to put me in panic mode. I was stressing over a blog for work when it accidentally got posted after about 2 sentences had been put in. Suddenly it didn't have to be this big fuckin' production, and I finished writing the whole damn thing in about 5 minutes.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
brokenbeatnik:
Public storage maybe? When I move and clean, I put myself into a relentless trash mode, where I only keep things that are specifically from other people. So the letter or the card I got 10 years ago gets to stay, but the paper Tecate coaster from Costa Rica goes (hypothetically speaking, I've never had a Tecate coaster or been to Costa Rica). But yeah, it's tough to say what to do once you've decided it is not trash. maybe binders for the letters? Get those three hole plastic things and stick them in there so you can read through them whenever you like? The fate of a knick-knack is to end up in a box, unfortunately, I believe. That is until you are fabulously wealthy and have lots of shelf space for them.
syncope:
Thank you for you support and comfort. I'm learning how to be at peace soon. Right now I'm distracting myself with sweets and alcohol.