Distilling Memories

Path through the leaning towers of junk.

My strategy regarding moving thus far in life has been one of boxed pack-rat-ism. I took to heart that, one day, I may yearn for nostalgically sorting through old nicknack's and school assignments. Now I'm realizing that collecting every Scantron from college will probably not help me gleam the subtleties of my earlier years.


Each time my family moved, I would go through all these boxes and distill out the important bits. So at this point elementary school and junior high are contained in two small boxes, whereas high school is still in at least four, and college is half-a dozen boxes, a large Tupperware container, and several loose piles in the closet.


A consequence of this is that I can barely get to my bed from my door right now, especially when the cats, being cats, lie down in the middle of the only path.