The Discipline of Packing

The hardest part about packing is that as I go through my boxes of stuff, I discover about half of it is made up of things I don't need or use, but simultaneously can't just throw out, because that would be wasteful. For example: half-empty bottles of nail polish from back when secretly painting one's toes was an act of protest against Catholic school rules; a portable hair dryer that was useful when I was taking swimming classes but has not been plugged in since; four different varieties of iron supplements (none of which I take now); and, last but not least, one of those hand-held vacuum cleaners for cleaning up minuscule messes. It's been used maybe twice since I got it before freshman year. Seriously, when a mess is big enough to call for a vacuum cleaner, I go get the hallway's massive upright one. What on earth would you use a dustbuster to clean that couldn't be done more easily by hand?? I am not above picking up crumbs with my fingertips or grabbing dustbunnies with a wet paper towel, thanks very much.

I think the end result of all this (which my parents will hate) is that there will be a stack of stuff going back to school with me, and a stack of unuseful but un-throw-out-able stuff to remain behind in the basement, blocking my father's access to his beloved mini pool table. This whole process is insane.