Once upon a time, there was a girl. Let’s call her Schmanjali.

Schmanjali wasn’t a huge fan of material possessions, but she had somehow still acquired a bunch of shit in her life. Sure, Schmanjali had important things (degrees in expensive frames, sentimental gifts from loved ones, puppy necessities), but she also had fuck ton of completely unnecessary shit (a 10-year-old digital camera that hadn’t worked in…9 and a half years, a clutch purse that was so ugly Schmanjali never used it once, half a coaster which broke 6 months ago and hadn’t yet gotten tossed).

The day Schmanjali decided to quit her job to travel the world was the same day she realized she owned entirely too much fucking garbage. 

The end.

Okay, it’s not really the end, but did you find my story about Schmanjali delightful? Because I fucking didn’t. I looked around my apartment the other day and wondered how it was even remotely possible to have acquired as much stuff as I had in the brief 30 years I had been on this earth.

Let me walk you through it:

Pink couch!My pink couch, which I have loved since I bought it two years ago, but which was, let’s be fucking honest, a shitty fucking purchase.

To be fair, because I bought it with rewards points, it only cost me like three dollars, but three dollars can buy a lot these days!

Also, it’s cheap as hell and I’m surprised it didn’t fall apart. Thank god, I finally just sold it!

All the shoes

Next up: three pairs of pumps, in all different colors.

Now, I know we live in a world where not being fashion forward is absolute travesty (can you sense the drip of sweet, sweet sarcasm?) and again, to be fair, I have absolutely LOVED all of these shoes. But looking back: did I really need to buy three of almost the exact same shoe in different colors? No, no I did not.

Jessica Simpson would be proud. My future (current) self that wants to travel the world and not worry about money, would not.

Shrinky dinksThird, a package of “Deluxe” Shrinky Dinks.

Not regular Shrinky Dinks.


Fucking DELUXE, whatever the fuck that means.

And yes, apparently, I am the type of grown-ass 29-year-old woman who feels it necessary to maintain, for my entertainment pleasure, a FULL package of Shrinky Dinks.

I don’t even know what to say about this other than that I’m ashamed.


My MENSA certificate. Okay, so maybe this isn’t exactly “junk,” because it is kind of cool, but I acquired at a time in my life in which I was unemployed, miserable, and looking for any kind of external ego boost I could find.

So I applied and got in to MENSA.

I’ve been carting this thing around with me forever and have no clue what I’m going to do with it when I leave. Maybe store it, along with my law degree? Either way, it was funny to find it in a box and even funnier when I realized it didn’t matter in the slightest to me anymore.

(Also, I’m making a stupid face behind the frame in case you can’t tell!)


(And the one lone squirrel that seems to be running away.)

So, okay, these aren’t exactly MY shit, they are my puppy’s shit, and therefore, by the pure and sound logic happening in my head, not my responsibility…

But of course they are my fucking responsibility because I’m the type of dog mom who couldn’t see Holly‘s heartbreak with just three or four or ten toys, no. My Holly had to have ALL THE FUCKING toys. Help.

Drunk stork

Finally, the crown-fucking-jewel of my collection: my stork piñata.

Okay, so there is (obviously) a story behind this.

A few weeks ago, I had a tubal ligation. Before I decided to ditch all my shit and travel the world, I was planning to have a kick-ass, baller “No Baby” party, which sadly, will not happen now.

However, I had all kinds of ridiculous shit planned for that party. “Like what, for example?” you may be asking in your head (I really hope you are).

Well: a dart board with a picture of a stork on it, a game of “pin the clips on the fallopian tubes,” a cake in the shape of a martini and the best of all, a stork piñata filled with (wait for it) condoms and miniature booze.

So, perhaps, I don’t actually feel bad about owning this delightful little piece. And I’m truly going to be sad to see it go (wherever the fuck it goes, to whatever fabulously twisted person that wants to own a stork piñata).

I’ve already sold some stuff (my pink couch, table and bed just all went) and plan to either sell, donate or give away to friends as much more as possible.

While it’s completely freeing, it’s also very sad. Despite making light of all of these things, I’ve acquired them because at various points along the way, they’ve all meant something to me. This life change doesn’t just mean leaving stability behind, it also means parting with some material possessions that have given me a lot of joy.

I’m finding solace in the fact that getting rid of all of these things is helping me realize what really matters: time spent with family, friends, and loved ones. And the special moments of conversation and connection that can’t ever compare to material possessions.

Onwards and upwards on this journey – to life!

P.S. Check out my YouTube video below and on my channel to see more of my story:

Image By: S.A. 3.0