Jordan and I have been moving and our new place currently lacks internet, which is why I haven’t been posting much (“But what’s your excuse the rest of the time?”, I hear you say), and I’d like to talk about stuff.
I won’t say “where did it all come from?”, because I know. Gifts from well-meaning people who don’t really know you. Supplies for hobbies you abandoned years ago. Books and tools and things that you really should have borrowed, but bought instead. Useless but interesting stuff. Useless but sentimental stuff. All seems justifiable, but the end result is still a one-bedroom apartment that won’t fit in one Uhaul. Nothing like moving to deal a blow to your sense of frugality.
And so, without further ado, I present the 10 most useless things I’ve actually brought along on a move (either this one or a previous one).
10. This necklace.
Inexplicably enough, I got it at my high school graduation (and no, green was not one of our school colors). Kudos to the necklace for still working; no kudos to me for still having it.
9. This Dvorak keyboard.
A real Dvorak keyboard is nice to have. This, however, is a Qwerty keyboard with stickers on it.
8. Empty bottles.
They will never be collectible if you don’t keep them.
I’ve never actually replaced a missing button, so I have to admit I just keep these around for craft projects. Don’t even ask why they’re poisoned.
6. A heat sink.
I pulled it out of a Dell, so it would be incompatible with everything even if it weren’t huge. Looks interesting, though.
Feathers are one of those things I just can’t resist picking up when I see them. Turns out this eventually leads to a lot of feathers.
Someday I will find the thing this key unlocks and then I will be vindicated.
3. A broken projector.
Doad (who has been innocent of most of this list) insists that this $500 projector can be repaired by replacing a 50-cent transistor. But we bought a new projector anyway.
2. This sweater cord with knots in it.
I have absolutely no explanation for this one.
We found at least eight rocks amongst our stuff. Some are interesting looking and some were, no doubt, picked up at unusual or memorable locations, but at the end of the day, they’re rocks. They are useless, valueless, and heavy. And yet I meticulously packed them up and took them from one apartment to another.
Because what else am I supposed to do, just get rid of my pile of rocks?