I Think "Growing Up" Means Getting Rid Of The Plastic Bins And Buying A Dresser

^Underwear Bin: boxers, boxer briefs, socks, tanks, tees, random sportswear, millions of dryer sheets


^Miscellaneous Bin: athletic shorts, unlimited free t-shirts, torn clothing, unwearable weekend clothes, forgotten/lost nice shirts, bags, potentially one slipper

As I'm apartment hunting, I did a mental checklist of all the things I've accomplished since effectively "growing up." I have a nice job, a girlfriend that's way out of my league, pay my bills on time, learned how to cook a little bit and got myself to be the strongest I've ever been. Everything has been trumped by these two bins above.

If you ask me where I got these bins from, I legitimately can't answer. They just appeared into my life like two semi-disgusting, colorful, plastic babies that I had to be responsible for. Plus, I honestly had NO idea where and how to get a dresser. The only opportunity that ever seemed realistic was picking one up on the street without accidentally stealing from someone. Too risky as a black guy. And IKEA just seemed like a figment of my imagination at that point--an "adult" location where "adults" did things for their legitimate lives. And that's when the bins became a staple in my life.

When the dust settled I really had nowhere to put my clothes. The bins were literally my only option. I've relied on them to store my unmentionables and the entire catalog of t-shirts I'd never wear in public. Where does a "Rock Band" video game shirt fit into this world other than the bottom of my bin? These things are like homeless shelters for all my terrible shirts that I'm too lazy/misinformed to actually donate to a real shelter. It takes a big man to realize that it's time to make a change. This will be the year I toss the flamboyantly colored bins into the street for the next naive kid to pick up and use to store his clothes. From there I will extensively Google "How to acquire a dresser" and undoubtedly purchase a dresser from IKEA. Maybe make a weekend out of it and stop at Home Depot..only if there's enough time.

Getting old sucks.

PS. The curtain in my room is not a curtain. It's a quilt.