Woke up and finished filling the trash bag. A few shirts I didn't like emblazoned with logos of bands I did and vice versa. Another stretched hoodie I'll not wear again ever. Got the bag full enough it started to fray, threw on pants, shoes and a hat and drug the bag to the 7, hopped off a few stops later. Walked across a long parking lot and tossed the bag in a big blue bin with wheels.
It's been more than a few years I've been meaning to do a clothing purge. But I've always meant to scour the various used clothing stores of the city-- get the most bang for my buck. I've hit Bon Voyage with mixed success, Madison's with none, Red Light with maybe one shirt offloaded? A few weeks ago I grabbed the most egregious of the clothing items and let them slide down the Addison trash chute.
But today's selections were different, nearly sentimental, nearly practical, all the reasons you keep things when you maybe shouldn't. Or should, if you were actually gonna hit every thrift shop. If you were really going to take those pants to a tailor, those shoes to a cobbler. Really going to cut all those logos out and make them into patches.
Anyway, after, with some of these items, years of equivocating and procrastinating, I got rid of them, freeing up a lot of shelf and drawer space.
But it's more the psychological weight. Over the weekend and start of the week there've been a few other things that, for privacy and practicality's sake, aren't worth detailing, except for them having similiarly been weighing on me, and now I feel. . . lighter? To a degree I hadn't anticipated.
Of course, it is dark and rainy and I'm drinking an Alaskan Porter, so there's a limit to Just How Light I'll feel.
But this has already been a year of upheaval, and it seems that's a trend that will continue, for better and worse, so making the best.