10am is the deadline. All of your stuff in your car is the aim. Fear is the emotion. The clock strikes 9, your room is still a mess, time is running out, you’re sweating, you need to vacuum, but the vacuum’s in the office. The cleaners have started knocking on your door to ask if you’re out yet. The clock strikes 9:30, which I know doesn’t make sense, but hey, you’re panicking. Your car is very close to being full of the random collection of stuff that you’ve managed to accumulate, and, through your tears of frustration and pain, you promise yourself that you will never let this happen again. You’ll throw out that poster your friend gave you, leave your collected works of Charles Dickens at home, only bring the clothes you need.
This is the panic of the college resident who, upon discovering the 4th set of shoes they didn’t wear all year failing to fit into their hatchback, realizes something. That they need to, somehow, learn to pack smart before they inflict this entire process upon themselves again next year.
Packing for the year can be one of the hardest things to do. It’s hard to balance what you will need, what you might need, and what you definitely won’t need but how awesome would it be to have it right there. For me, these categories sound a little more like these: Textbooks and Living Material, Musical Instruments, and posters of wolves. Considering I had 7 musical instruments in my room at the end of last year, as well as a poster of a wolf, one can guess that I didn’t do that well at packing for the year. If I were to throw out advice for new and returning evidence, it’d be the following:
Prioritize what you need. If your ‘rents are happy to look after the remainder of your stuff, then leave it with them. If they do mind, then it might be time to give away those Jammies you haven’t worn since primary school, throw out the costume you wore for that 21st that one time, and sell the textbooks for the first year course you didn’t ever even want to do. At the end of my first year I had the pleasure of helping an overly stressed hoarder vacate her room. She had a hard time getting everything out, and the tension in the air was palpable. She had, however, learnt her lesson, and managed to go the entirety of the next year without her mini-muffin-oven.
Mildly irrelevant anecdotes aside, many people have trouble managing with the amount of stuff that they can fit in their comparatively small college rooms.
But when I see people with entire, and very large, sets of drawers in their rooms, I can’t help but consider how much trouble they’ll have when they set out at the end of the year, all because they didn’t prioritize…