Objects that you associate with good times are much harder to let go of than objects that remind you of decomposition, embarrassment, and idiocy. I still have notes from high school math classes — I’ve saved notes from AP classes and all of the courses I took in undergrad and grad school. Pourquoi? I remember the methodicalness with which I took the notes, using different color inks, writing in French, English, and Chinese.
I don’t need these items anymore, but I am not sufficiently motivated to throw them away or even go through them because then I’d have to take boxes out of my closet and thumb through filing cabinets. I may find mementos of a self I no longer remember. I may find questions to which I still have not found answers.
And then, there’s plain ‘ol laziness. Why throw it out at all if eventually it will be gone anyway? I’m the sort who gets an idea in her mind and has to do it “now” or within forty-eight hours. Otherwise, some things fall off the mental conveyor belt into the abyss or flutter up into the sky.
My cat Schubert likes to watch TV with me.