Old Stuff.

On Sunday I went over to my dad’s to finish cleaning up the bits of my life that remained strewed about his basement. I had lived with out these things for four months, so in reality, I probably should have blind folded myself and thrown it all out – but instead I spent three hours going through plastic containers that reminded me of old things.

There were pictures of me and my best friend Rachel who moved home to Australia years back, we were so happy then. She was in a crappy marriage, I was 19 and 20 so we pretty much got drunk at either of our houses after work. We shopped, we ate, it was great. Then there was picture of Di and me from our wild crazy summer that made me smile and ache all at the same time. As I continued to dig the pictures got older – there was pictures of exes, both good and bad, pictures of old vacations. I could spend hours looking through the box full of the memories, but I stopped when I realized that it was all in the past. I kept a handful of them and threw the rest out.

Then there was the lock box that I kept, that didn’t actually lock and I had no clue where the key actually was. Inside the box were more random memories, so I tossed them. I decided that it was time to stop relying on my past and keep it where it should be, only in my head, to disrupt my daily routine.

I finally narrowed down my crates of belongings into 10 garbage bags and three containers. As I drove back to my flat, I decided that it was good that all the old stuff was going away and that today would be the start of a brand new me.