As a nation of consumers, we’re all guilty of owning a bunch of crap we don’t really need. Nothing brings this fact to the surface like packing up to move. Things that have been pushed back, piled high and stored away to be forgotten are suddenly front and center and in need of a purpose.
Most of this stuff—junk that never should have been purchased in the first place—should be thrown away. Tossed. Pitched. Erased forever. No more debate. But the more sensitive folks among us, including me, feel slightly guilty about this scenario. As if two obsolete iPhone 3 cords have a soul and putting them in the garbage is disrespectful in some way.
I had a particularly intense episode of this mental back and forth last week when I rediscovered my small but respectable koozy collection. I don’t drink a lot of beer these days and there are no plans for fishing trip anytime soon, so they’re basically useless. But for now they remain—prominently displayed on a crowded kitchen shelf where far more essential things should be stored.
Now that we’re on the subject, I AM feeling a little thirsty…
If this foam could talk, it’d be full of lies and grandiose embellishment.