Trim the fat

How much stuff have you ever bought, and simply stored in a cupboard or attic (whatever a cupboard is — a board for cups?). How many of us have an attic full of crap of various grades, from ‘it’ll come in useful’ to ‘I don’t want to chuck it away but it’s in the way down here’, to ‘I was saving this to give to someone’ and even for the technophiles among us, the “magic attic” phenomena, related to the “magic drawer” which is the place where stuff that doesn't work gets put and a year or so later it comes out and magically works again, or usually not.

Okay, forget about attics, a lot of people don’t actually have an attic and have to leave stuff cluttered around the living area in drawers, shelves and corners. What about closer to home a bit, what about your phone? Or your tablet. What about the amount of apps we download through the play store or App Store because it was free or seemed useful or was cool a the time. How many apps have you got on your phone or tablet that you never use, have never opened, and can’t even remember what it does? Apps that you daren’t even open in case you actually do find out what it does. Apps with a clever but meaningless name, and a cute but meaningless icon. Apps that you thought were going to enhance your life but just got stashed away in case it might be useful in the future, or suchlike. How much stuff have we got like that our lives?

Recently I went on a cull on my iPad to get rid of the apps I don’t ever use, have forgotten what it did, or can’t figure out what it does from the icon or name. If I never used it, will I miss it? Of course not. Out it goes. This is a traumatic enough thing to apply to our phones and tablets. Maybe we should be brave and apply it to our attics, cupboards, corners and rooms. Trim the fat.

For now, though, maybe I should get rid of what isn't immediately useful. For example, in my fridge I have a rare roll of Kodak infrared 135 E6 film. My film scanner is broken (it’s in the magic attic) and I haven't shot film on my cameras in over a year, and will never, pretty much guaranteed, ever process E6 film again. Why do I keep this several-year-old expired but “valuable” roll of infrared film in the fridge? In case it comes in useful! We'll, so far it hasn't —maybe I should go on the evidence and chuck it out.

At the moment I’m on a well earned break from my business start ups, enjoying the weather down in Cornwall for a few days, maybe when I get back to London the first thing I’ll do is to throw out that symbolic roll of E6 infrared film and feel the relief.