I’m not a pack rat by any stretch of the imagination. When something has served its time, I get rid of it quickly. Greeting cards last about ten minutes, unless Ari intervenes. Once I read it and swear under my breath about there being no money in it, what’s the point of keeping it around? Into the trash it goes!
However, yesterday when I went and bought a new pair of shoes because I never had a dad and material goods fill the hole in my heart (right now you’re thinking, “I don’t know whether to laugh or to hold him”), I discovered that for some reason, I do keep shoe boxes.
I decided to stuff my new shoes in my gym bag so I wouldn’t have to carry two bags home, but instead of trashing the box, I kept it. It’s jammed up under my desk right now, where it will probably be until the end of time.
Then, when I went home last night and counted, there must’ve been at least 23 shoe boxes under my bed, counting Ari’s too, because evidently she has a problem with this as well.
I think I have this issue because for some reason I worry that I might have to move at any moment, and there is absolutely no way to transport shoes without boxes for them.
Everything else in the apartment? Fine. But shoes? I have to tell you, if you’re looking to transport those without their ship, it’s going to be one messy situation.
You’re sitting there, picking up one and looking for the match, then oops! You dropped one! And the next thing you know, you’re drowning your sadness with a bottle of Jack while listening to “Goodbye to You” by Michelle Branch and it’s not even a Tuesday night.
But with boxes – you don’t have this problem. Put those shoes in a box and you are ready to move swiftly and easily.
I don’t really understand why I think I’ll get a call and have to move so quickly (with shoe boxes in tow). I mean I’m not Jason Bourne.
Or am I???