Gotta Get Around To, You Know, My Stuff

When my parents left for the winter, I once again had the space and the time to take all my stuff from my storage unit, sift through them, read the magazines and newspapers I have kept all these years so that I would one day read them, put copies of Entertainment Weekly and programs for sporting events in their separate bags, and finally throw as much of the crap I have away.

Well, we're coming up on seven weeks and I haven't done jack.  Well, let me take that back -- I read the first thing I put in my bags of stuff, a copy of the late, lamented Star Tribune-created alternative weekly Vita.MN (which was put down when the Strib but the standard-bearing alternative weekly City Pages ... which was also put down by the Strib last year, presumably because of the pandemic), uh, just last night.  The cover story was that year's South By Southwest.  It was from March of 2011.  Yep, almost eleven years I kept it.  It's now in the recycling bag, but a part of me wonders if it's worth something.  Nah.

I have dozens of bags of that.  Dozens.  I am so overwhelmed that I should just chuck it in the recycling bin.  But, goddammit, I made a promise to myself that each one of these pieces of ... stuff has something worth reading at least once, even if the information on it is more than a decade old.  So I soldier on.  No, that's not true; I continue to possess them in the increasingly vain hopes that I will pay proper attention to each piece and in good faith read and consider them before either keeping it for posterity's sake or finally disposing of them.  There's just so many that it's intimidating and that's why I've barely started, that's all.

Called Mother last night.  Wanted to slightly and calmly act as if things are back to normal after The Mechanic Around The Corner ratted me out to them about their minivan.  See, the garbage wasn't picked up yesterday morning, and although they came around in the evening (possibly while I took a nap after work, and picking up more liquor, and eating at Jersey Mike's), I took the opportunity to reach out to my folks by asking if our trash is still picked up on Thursdays.  Anyway, after Mother said that it was, we moved on quickly to other things.  I thought that they told me they were coming home.  I almost had a heart attack.  But I misunderstood what they were saying.  They actually are in Utah for the time being, but will be back in Las Vegas in several days.  Good thing, because I still have a bunch of my stuff that I, well, intend to get around to, and that's not even counting all of my crap that is piling up in my storage unit.

I have other thoughts as to what I'm doing instead of going through my stuff, and what those opportunity costs show what I value.  Maybe I'll put that in another blog post.  Let's just say that it's high time I get around to going through my stuff.