Picture this: You’ve moved somewhere new. You bring up all your essentials (and then some), unpack, and make this new place your home. You live there for several years, sometimes buying new knick-knacks, clothes, and (rarely) textbooks. You’re comfortable, and have truly settled in. Then, four years later, you have to uproot from your settlement. It’s time for you to get a move on and leave. Your time has come. And now you’re left with an excessive number of things (junk) that you need to get rid of. But you’re not quite willing to part with all that junk. So now you’re not sure what you’re supposed to with all that junk that you’re not quite willing to part with. This is the story those folks who always shared stories from their glorified college years never told you.
This represents my current state. I’m confused, overwhelmed, excited, lost. I certainly made Washington, D.C. my home over these past four years. I’m not one who chooses to live with the mindset that I shouldn’t get too comfortable because I’ll eventually move out. I like to settle in, and settle in quick. Example: when returning from any vacation or break, you’ll typically find that I’m completely unpacked within a day or two. I can’t stand living out of those suitcases. Feeling at home is my specialty. But as I begin thinking through this moving-out process from my four-year home, I have come to realize that I have no clue how to actually begin the move-out process. Where do I even begin? And when? Amidst these tough questions, here are a few more that have rattled my brain as I have tried to get my pre-packing self organized:
Why did I pack so many T-shirts? Will someone please tell me the good I thought I was going to get out of all these T-shirts I packed? How did I honestly think packing nearly every T-shirt from my old school was a good idea? Shocker, it was definitely not a good idea. Now I’m left having to pack nearly a million shirts that I literally never wore, because (*gasp*) once I got to college I never found an occasion to sport my St. John’s vs. Kinkaid pep-rally shirt from sophomore year! (Funny because “sophomore” comes from the Greek words “sophos” and “mōros”, meaning “wise” and “fool”. Sounds about right.).
What do you do with books that you don’t want to keep, but also that you don’t want to throw away? A stack of books is building at the foot of my bed. I should’ve stuck with renting, even if it cost $10 more than buying. I’ve got a few books on philosophy, some on writing, and others on just-war theory. Though what’s strange is that, despite knowing deep down in my soul that I don’t want any of these, I keep finding myself falling into that the trap of “Maybe one day I’ll use them.” No. Absolutely not. I will never. But I’ll keep them anyway.
Why have I not thrown away useless papers, coupons and pamphlets from these four years? This is a question that I really cannot answer. Did I really think I’d use these papers for something?…ever? Seriously, what good would a flier for a sophomore year event do for my senior self? Time to grab the recycling bin and get tossin’.
How will I last the journey home? Okay, I know that this question is a bit pre-meditated, but I’ve got one month to mentally prepare how I’m going to survive the journey back to Texas. I’m still slightly scarred from the ride up – being hardly able to stretch my legs because of the stuffed-to-the-brim mom van. … If I had just known that I wouldn’t ever wear those T-shirts … But as I do mentally prepare, I anxiously await my favorite road-trip meal of chicken and dumplings, with sides of green beans and a buttermilk biscuit from beloved Cracker Barrel. The obsession is odd, but I’m not ashamed. I guess there’s a light at the end of every dark, crammed, long tunnel!
Although I’ve begun thinking about packing and moving, the reality of packing and moving hasn’t sunken in quite yet. I so nonchalantly talk about the events to come in a month, but I haven’t let myself really think about it all. Maybe it’s because seeing these four years wrap up so quickly is surreal. I planned for these four years practically my whole life, and now they’re nearly over. But it’s been a good run, and I’m ready for the next chapter I suppose. Yet, as I throw some junk out, pack some junk away, and figure out where to put all my T-shirts, I am challenging myself to live in the present, to be spontaneous, and to soak up every moment in the District that I’ve got left.