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September 2009 
The Pack Rat
Posted on Mar 14th, 2009
by 
DudeRun
DudeRun
Right now I'm facing my bookshelf. Last summer I cleaned it out and threw out all of the books I was never going to read (this included the ENTIRE Babysitter's Club). As I look at it now, I see multiple notebooks from as far back as the first grade and at least 50 magazines dating back to about five years ago.
If you look around our house you will see PILES of books that no one will read again (my dad only will ever read a book once), movies that haven't been touched in over ten years, and papers no one can figure out why we have them. My dad actually brought me a newspaper article dated from 1989 that had no apparent use. Why did he keep it? Because he never felt the need to throw it away.
It's said that baby boomers feel the need collect things or keep things no longer needed, because that was instilled in them from childhood. My dad had a meager childhood and had the basics. I'm not entirely sure if other boomers are like this, but my dad definitely likes to keep things that have no meaning. We have a clown lamp on top of a shelf full of meaningless things that we have never used. None of us even like clowns. Why did he buy it? It was there. Although I am now contemplating the usage of that lamp in a children's room further down the road. If my sister has another child I may pawn it off on her, but her boys would probably break it, the little rough housers that they are.
It's also said that people who experience traumatic events will collect things to help remind them of that particular time period. At age 14, I was taken from my family and put through a series of foster homes. I suffered from severe depression and suicidal tendencies, which I kept to myself and to this day the majority of my family (including my dad and brother) know nothing about this. But at this same age I started keeping magazines, letters, cards, notebooks, loose sheets of paper, bits and pieces of cloth, labels, empty containers, and binders because I couldn't bear to part with them. Every time I put a magazine on my shelf to be with the rest of them I just tell myself I may some day need them. There may be a hairstyle or an article I want to look at for future reference. Do I ever look at them? No. Do I ever go through the notebooks from freshman year? No. Do I ever read the letters or look at the cards? Of course not! But right now I have every shelf and drawer in my room filled with the things that have absolutely no meaning to me. It's ridiculous.
But as I look at them and think about throwing them out, I get a tug in the back of my mind. What if I throw them away and then I do need them? What if I really want to look at that article? What if I really will fit in those jeans I had when I was 14 (and we all know this isn't happening)? What if I decide to wear the ponytail I got from my mom's stuff? What if I want to look back at the pictures I acquired when I was fourteen?
But I won't. And I know I won't. I will never need them or use them again. Ever. I'm just collecting and hoarding and cramping space I could be using for the collection of Harry Potter and Twilight books I seem to keep getting. I'll need room for the notebooks I'm using at this moment. And, currently, my Bible has no home. It just sits on top of a thing of notebooks. I don't like this. I don't like my mess. I hate having my CDs by my bed so I trip over them every morning. I hate looking at the stacks of magazines and the journal I had when I was eight. Who cares who sucked when I was eight years old? Who cares which boy was soooo hot? Nobody. I sure don't care that Jeff Miiller and I played tag at recess together. Not important. And neither is the fact that Simple Plan signed a plate backstage at a concert for Tiger Beat. While I love Simple Plan and the countless posters I have of them are my dedication to that, I can't keep the magazines just because the band happens to be in them.
The first step to getting over anything is to admit there is a problem and I admit there's a problem. I have too many useless things. Too many letters, empty lipstick and chapstick tubes, earrings, broken necklaces, and too many old notebooks and magazines. And I have to throw them away. It's going to be hard, but... I'm going to do this.
And it seems like this project is just one more to elongate my procrastination when it comes to my writing. I am amazing when it comes to procrastinating. I should be a crowned champion. But, then, where would I put my crown?
If you look around our house you will see PILES of books that no one will read again (my dad only will ever read a book once), movies that haven't been touched in over ten years, and papers no one can figure out why we have them. My dad actually brought me a newspaper article dated from 1989 that had no apparent use. Why did he keep it? Because he never felt the need to throw it away.
It's said that baby boomers feel the need collect things or keep things no longer needed, because that was instilled in them from childhood. My dad had a meager childhood and had the basics. I'm not entirely sure if other boomers are like this, but my dad definitely likes to keep things that have no meaning. We have a clown lamp on top of a shelf full of meaningless things that we have never used. None of us even like clowns. Why did he buy it? It was there. Although I am now contemplating the usage of that lamp in a children's room further down the road. If my sister has another child I may pawn it off on her, but her boys would probably break it, the little rough housers that they are.
It's also said that people who experience traumatic events will collect things to help remind them of that particular time period. At age 14, I was taken from my family and put through a series of foster homes. I suffered from severe depression and suicidal tendencies, which I kept to myself and to this day the majority of my family (including my dad and brother) know nothing about this. But at this same age I started keeping magazines, letters, cards, notebooks, loose sheets of paper, bits and pieces of cloth, labels, empty containers, and binders because I couldn't bear to part with them. Every time I put a magazine on my shelf to be with the rest of them I just tell myself I may some day need them. There may be a hairstyle or an article I want to look at for future reference. Do I ever look at them? No. Do I ever go through the notebooks from freshman year? No. Do I ever read the letters or look at the cards? Of course not! But right now I have every shelf and drawer in my room filled with the things that have absolutely no meaning to me. It's ridiculous.
But as I look at them and think about throwing them out, I get a tug in the back of my mind. What if I throw them away and then I do need them? What if I really want to look at that article? What if I really will fit in those jeans I had when I was 14 (and we all know this isn't happening)? What if I decide to wear the ponytail I got from my mom's stuff? What if I want to look back at the pictures I acquired when I was fourteen?
But I won't. And I know I won't. I will never need them or use them again. Ever. I'm just collecting and hoarding and cramping space I could be using for the collection of Harry Potter and Twilight books I seem to keep getting. I'll need room for the notebooks I'm using at this moment. And, currently, my Bible has no home. It just sits on top of a thing of notebooks. I don't like this. I don't like my mess. I hate having my CDs by my bed so I trip over them every morning. I hate looking at the stacks of magazines and the journal I had when I was eight. Who cares who sucked when I was eight years old? Who cares which boy was soooo hot? Nobody. I sure don't care that Jeff Miiller and I played tag at recess together. Not important. And neither is the fact that Simple Plan signed a plate backstage at a concert for Tiger Beat. While I love Simple Plan and the countless posters I have of them are my dedication to that, I can't keep the magazines just because the band happens to be in them.
The first step to getting over anything is to admit there is a problem and I admit there's a problem. I have too many useless things. Too many letters, empty lipstick and chapstick tubes, earrings, broken necklaces, and too many old notebooks and magazines. And I have to throw them away. It's going to be hard, but... I'm going to do this.
And it seems like this project is just one more to elongate my procrastination when it comes to my writing. I am amazing when it comes to procrastinating. I should be a crowned champion. But, then, where would I put my crown?
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