My subletter moves in one week from today. Technically, according to my best friend Daniel, she is not a subletter, but a lessee. There’s no ‘sub’ about it since I own my place.
Moving out shouldn’t be a hassle since I get to leave most of my stuff here. Mainly, I’m just taking my clothes and toiletries. My personal paper files (mortgage stuff, tax returns) will be moved to my storage room downstairs. So if ever I need to access them, I can just come back to the house! Very easy and simple.
Nevertheless, I’ve been sorting through my belongings, tossing things that I don’t even use anymore. Trust me, I am not a pack rat. I’m very very minimalist. But still…I can’t tell you the number of items that have been cluttering up my life: Stridex cleaning pads, Cellulite Be Gone body lotion, tiny vials of perfumes I never wear, Vaseline, Hydrex moisturing serum, Advanced Solutions acne mark fading peel, buttons—oh so many buttons! This is all ridiculous shit. And the condoms. I have so many condoms from Burning Man events, festivals. They get tossed in orientation bags, starter kits. I counted 12 condoms.
Dean was helping me move stuff and he came across a piece of paper that said ‘gonorrhea.’ He asked nervously, “Why does that piece of paper say ‘gonorrhea?’ “
“Baby, it’s attached to a condom. See it says, “Want to prevent that itchy feeling? Keep gonorrhea at bay. Use condoms. They give this shit out at all the Burning Man events. Hey, at least we’re safe.”
I have placed all these extraneous products on top of my toilet and I vow to use them up before the end of the week. Not the condoms, of course. Those I put in a bag to donate to a shelter.