Discovering the Relevance of Words
It all comes down to what they can print out and put in a file folder. Inventories and bank statements and phone bills.
Every once in while you should use your card to pay for something fancy. Just so that if you get murdered, the investigators won’t think you’re a total degenerate who only shops at the record store and Arby’s. I might have shared this piece of advice before, but it’s worth another mention.
I’m in the middle of moving, and the process of going through my possessions has me thinking about what my things might say about me. It also has me exhausted, so my brain is firing on about 6 of 8 cylinders. I know. It’s the perfect time for introspection.
I found three shoeboxes under my bed when I was packing up. They were full of assorted crap, as if I had just pulled the junk drawer out of my desk and emptied the contents into the nearest container. Which is exactly what I did. The junk these boxes contained could have all been thrown out. It should have been thrown out. I think there was even some actual garbage in one of them, somewhere buried amid the chapsticks and key chains.
I know these boxes say something about me, but I don’t think I even want to know what it is. I just know I could use more classy shit in my life. Or in my apartment, at least.
What does the inventory of your life say about you? What conclusions might detectives come to in the investigation of your life?
And do you know where I could find some boxes in this town? My whole world is boxes right now.