Everything I own fits in a suitcase and why the hell did I have so much stuff

I'm moving out of my SF apartment in 2 days and my relationship with "stuff" has become very strange. 

For the past two weeks, I've had to take a hard look at everything I own and ask myself, "do I really need this?" It's incredible how often the answer is no.

Where does all this garbage come from? Why do I keep mountains of useless trinkets, doodads, and knickknacks?  

In the past 5 days, I have hauled 4 bags of clothes and shoes and two suitcases to Goodwill. I've made 9 trips to the dumpster with overstuffed trash bags, small furniture, and decor. I've parted with an entire kitchen's worth of silverware, small appliances, plates, pots and pans, cups, and more.

The one thing I didn't want to let go of, a bed set that was a gift from my parents, now belongs to someone else and I've been sleeping on the floor for 3 days.

A friend is hanging onto the irreplaceable stuff until I get back: the posterboard photo collages of family and friends my mom made for me, my painstakingly bedazzled college graduation hat, the stereo system I got for my 11th birthday with a Now That's What I Call Music 2 cassette tape stuck in the left deck. Everything fit into 4 small boxes.

My room is totally empty save for a small pile of clothes, some cosmetics, and 2 suitcases. 

I've never felt lighter.

 

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