So the other day I was at my job (The library in the Art Institute for those of you who didn't know...those of you who are here from a referral and don't actually know me personally), and some boxes were sent down from the archival people on the 2nd floor. They told us to sort through this one guys crap and seperate the photos from everything else. And the thing is, it really was crap. They had just packed up this guys stuff (the man is now dead by the way) and shipped it to us. So included was the oddest collection of (again) crap. There were random scraps of paper with notes on them, Time magazines from 1983, reciepts from Rainbow Meat Co. when this guy had baught beef, his film developing reciepts, postcards from friends, credit card reciepts ("You think we can still use this credit card number?" a girl I work with asked. "It says it expired in 1979!" I said), and a bunch of other stuff. It was just odd getting a sense of someones life by sorting through all of their saved papers, reading letters friends had sent to them, and seeing notes they had written. It honestly had a deep impact on me: It made me go straight home and clean out all my old crap! I don't want some kids sorting through my shit in 2095!