Recently, I lost a jump drive. Okay, not really recently - several months ago, but I just now realized that I lost it. In my quest to find aforementioned jump drive, I searched in all of the "usual" places: my desk (the one at home and the one on campus), my work tables, and then my bag. Now, bag should actually be plural as there are four bags. At first, the realization that I actually have four bags disturbed me, but as I pondered further, I realized that I actually use all four bags (i.e., discovery #1). I have two laptop bags, a messenger bag, and a backpack. One laptop bag attaches to my luggage, but won't hold much more than my laptop, a book and a couple of legal pads. My other laptop bag is the one that I use on a daily basis because it will hold my laptop, a few books, legal pads, student papers, etc. However, it does not attach to my luggage, which forces me to carry it when I travel. Since most of my travel is through the massive city that is Hartsfield Jackson International, this becomes very tiresome. The backpack is necessary given that some days I cannot fit everything I need in my usual laptop bag. Indeed, many a day I carry a backpack and said laptop bag. Finally, I have a messenger bag, for those rare days when I don't need my laptop and the backpack is too big. Thus, to each bag a purpose! [As an aside, the backpack was a gift and the messenger bag was free with purchase from Express.]
As I searched through these bags for the elusive jump drive, I found a number of items that I simply forgot I had (i.e., discovery #2). I found a number of pens and pencils (great since I'm a writing utensil snob), a jump drive - NOT the one that prompted my search, dry erase markers, legal pads, almost enough money for a gallon of gas, a dead bug, some debit card receipts, and a couple of "extra" computer cables. Discovery #2 was the most exciting of my discoveries for two reasons. First, I found supplies I had already purchased, which negated my immediate of purchasing more supplies. Second, the fall semester will begin in a few weeks, and I no longer need to purchase the standard fall supplies as I can now do my shopping at home!
When not in use, my bags reside in closet of my guest bedroom/office (if it's just me here, it's the office; if there are guests, it's the guest bedroom). As I began to pull the bags out of the closet, I noticed that it was impossible to walk in my walk-in closet. I found this highly disconcerting and proceeded to take everything out of the closet and engage in what I term a ritual purge (these take various forms about three times a year). A ritual purge involves pulling everything out of a space (usually a closet, but occasionally a box or desk), sorting through everything, and dividing it into four piles: keep, trash, recycle, or donate. Two recycle boxes, five donation boxes, and a trash bag later, I can now walk all the way to the back of my closet and touch the back wall. Even better, the closet now holds boxes of data that were sitting in the floor of my office! Discovery #3 was the most time consuming, but ultimately was very rewarding.
Discovery #4 was the most painful of my discoveries, but I think pain is often a part of the self-discovery process. I realized, in the words of Jillian, "Todd, you're a packrat." My packrat pain exists at two levels. First, there is the trauma associated with the fact that I am hoarder. To assuage my anti-materialistic readers, rest assured that I don't hoard normal items. No, in the grand irony that is the ivory tower, I hoard...my previous academic work (all the way back to high school). August begins year 10 of higher education for me, which means I've hoarded a LOT of stuff. Even sadder, I hoarded papers of which I have electronic copies. For the environmentally aware, these papers found a new home at the Athens-Clarke County recycling center. The second trauma is the realization that my proclivity is genetic. Yes, I am the son of hoarders. As someone who studies families for a living, I know that in many ways we're all becoming our parents. However, that does little to lessen the pain that accompanies the realization that I am becoming my parents. C'est la vie.
As look back on these discoveries, I am fascinated by the fact that they are a direct result of me losing a jump drive, which I have yet to find!
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