The weird thing about it is how methodical and organized I am in my packratness. I was going through my room at my parents' house packing for college and I realized just how much stuff I have from over the years. Some of it is sentimental, but a large portion is just old junk that I've packed up neatly and stuffed in some random corner to rot for all eternity.
Not only that, but I'm an electronic packrat. My photo folder is meticulously organized, with folders upon sub-folders upon sub-sub-folders, but I have a hard time culling photos after a high-volume shoot. I have no problem tossing the out of focus and over- or underexposed ones, but I will agonize over which of two nearly identical photos of a certain subject I want to keep and will usually just give up and keep both.
The worst part is that I keep waiting for life changes (moving houses, getting a new computer, etc.) to motivate me to clean things out. Since my junk is kept from interfering with my productivity, I ignore it until it reaches critical mass. Usually I do pretty well in the foresight department, but this is one area of my life where I'm operating on a purely reactionary maintenance schedule.
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