I found this reading timely. I just moved into a new building on campus last week, so my things, especially small things, were strewn around my new room in comforting chaos. My desk both at home and here is the go-to spot for little papers, junk in my pockets, as well as my laptop, vitamin bottles, and anything else imaginable. So, you can imagine what it looked like in the recent days while I was unpacking all my bins. While doing this reading, I was sitting at said desk in Lefevre Hall. I suddenly became horrifically aware of everything that was in front of and around me. There was, at the time, a bright orange file holder (of which I put things in never to take them out again), a notepad labeled “shopping list,” a stray dryer sheet, my favorite pen with no cap, my checklist for the day, one of those round Eos chap-stick things, and a mug of tea. Those being but a few of the items, I immediately felt the need to clear my workspace. I contemplated using the “joy test” that KonMari praises and recommends, however, I thought the junk on my desk was not up to the standards of the joy test. If I applied the joy test, my desk would probably be totally empty. After our discussion in class on Tuesday, many of the things on my desk were those practical items; my set of mini drawers holds writing supplies and post-it notes, which I need but do not necessarily bring me joy. If the joy test extends beyond the object itself, though, then you could say it does bring me joy. If I did not have any pens, pencils, or post-it notes, I would have to take the bus that always runs late, as I do not have a car. Alternatively, I could walk to the store in the freezing cold. So, all in all, those pens and pencils in my little green set of drawers in a way does give me joy.

I picked up each item, trying not to think in such an extended way. Instead, I asked myself “do I need this?” I am usually a “I might need this later” type person, but once in a while, I get into those moods where I need to clear everything out. This turned into one of those moods. I picked up small papers that laid helplessly around and got rid of them. I put the chap-stick away in my first aid box. The dryer sheet found a permanent home in the garbage, and the orange file holder found a temporary home under my bed and out of the way.

It was strange going through my items, I think because I used a modified version of what we read about. Instead of asking if my shopping list notepad gave me joy, I asked myself if I really needed it. I became acutely aware of each item I had on my desk. Some of them were there because it held objects I needed like pens, scissors, and erasers. Some of the things were there simply because I placed them there days ago while unpacking, and I forgot about them. It was definitely not difficult because, as I stated before, the items I was dealing with were practical. Not a lot of them gave me any kind of joy. I am glad I got to do this experiment while also experiencing this move across buildings. If I hadn’t been assigned to do something like this, the poor desk would most likely be cluttered until the end of time.