I just spent three hours sitting on the living room floor, half-watching Singin’ in the Rain while sorting through all my papers from first year. Keep or Toss* is a much harder game to play than Truth or Dare!
(*And by Toss, I mean, of course, Ditch At My Parents’ House. They’re as squirrelly as I am. When going through my desk at home, I came across a folder of report cards. From kindergarten.)
The scale was lying around, too — left over from weighing luggage before the Vacation of Awesome. So when I was done being a Back to School Triage Nurse, I weighed it all. Five pounds to keep, thirty to recycle. That’s as much as a small child. Not that I would ever condone recycling a child!
Seriously, when did I get all this paper? One of my majors in college was literature, and I didn’t have this much stuff floating around. Ever. My binder of thesis materials, where I obsessively stored every draft and outline and napkin-scribble, was maybe half the size of my anatomy papers.
Let’s look at it this way: I’m preserving a remarkable record for posterity. In the 24½th century, some poor sap of a medical historian will stumble across this veritable treasure trove of millennial medical education and exclaim, “Great Jumpin’ Jehosephat, the stories are true! People actually used bleached cellulose-based writing surfaces in the olden days. And what’s this? They thought there were five compartments of the leg? Oh, dearie me.”
Next up: do the same with my textbooks; at least I can sell some of those. But first, perhaps, sleep.