Sorting The Crap

One of the steps necessary to making a new life is dealing with all the crap from the last one. There are a thousand little nagging details I’ve been working on for the last couple of weeks, with no end in sight.

Helping roommate find a new roommate. Breaking the lease. Deciding on a final day of work. Going through my gear and seeing what I need to pick up, and what can be grabbed on the way. Paying off a whopping power bill, and leaving the account open. Trying to decide what to do with all the junk I “needed” and have been carting around for the last couple of years. What to do with my books. Finding a waterproof case for my netbook that fits in my frame pack.

Sweet gibbering Jebus…what am I going to do with the gorilla suit?

Documents. Records. Hastily scribbled and now mostly indecipherable notes. Will my drivers license renewal arrive in time, or will that be the last act of this vicious state to delay me leaving until they manage to get THEIR shit together..

Today was a good example. I went through the pile of laundry, hauling everything to the coin-op just up the street. After thorough washing an bleaching, I took count.

At least two DOZEN t-shirts…that after tossing the ones with holes in them.

Clearly, that amount has to at least quartered. I was planning on a 60-70lb frame pack. If I just took my clothes, that weight would be over half the total. There is still tent, tarp, hammock, kitchen gear, food…the list is endless.

That is just the point. The list CAN’T by definition be endless. There just isn’t enough room in the pack, and hauling more than 70lb (even in a frame pack) is just stupid and irresponsible.

Thinking about it like a fire. What would I paw through the soot-stained rubble of a fire to keep? What is so valuable that it couldn’t be replaced at half the weight? I upgraded my phone this week, half the weight and twice the battery life (with the ability to check my email from the road…) so that is a good start.

The horror. My books…




One thought on “Sorting The Crap

  1. Pingback: Packed Up. | Nowhere Bound

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