As I sit here at my desk, pondering all topics related to real estate, I stare at the cluster of power cords entangled nearby. Normally, these same cords are tucked safely into a drawer in my desk where they are out of sight and out of mind. Not today. Today I opened my drawer in search of a pair of scissors to finally cut the tag free of the stuffed bear I had received as a gift approximately three years ago, and my eyes immediately fell to the bundle of cords — chargers of one sort or another to be exact. Interestingly, I had just purchased a new desk less than one month ago. I had literally, and quite mindlessly, transferred these chargers from my old desk drawer into my new one. Why, pray tell, would one do such a thing? I have no idea exactly which of these power cords, if any, still function.

It is not just the box (or drawer in my case) of tech tethers that are generally transferred from one place to another without thought. I have found there are other common items we take with us as well. Perhaps we should give some of these other items a second thought before transferring onto the truck as well.

What about the exercise equipment that was purchased in the era of COVID when the gym just wasn’t an option? Before you break your back lugging that treadmill into a moving truck, ask yourself if it has served any other purpose than to hold the laundry. If the only marathon it’s seen in the past three years was a Netflix one, it’s probably not earning its square footage. Listen, I get it. Even as an avid gym goer, I too have owned a glorified coat rack at one point. I thought it would give me some freedom and save some time. At my last move, however, I had to be honest with myself. Am I moving a fitness tool or an overpriced shelf? If it hasn’t sparked sweat or joy, let it go. Your new home deserves better than a $900 guilt trip collecting dust in the corner.

How about that cool fondue set that you received as a gift at your first wedding 36 years ago (speaking for myself)? It likely didn’t even serve you well the one time you attempted to use it. Using a fondue set is one of those things that look like so much fun on Pinterest but pulling it off is an entirely different ball game altogether. I had no idea that the tiny flame that needs to be lit to melt a grated block of cheese would require the dexterity of a bomb technician and once lit, the bread cubes just end up falling into an endless abyss of dairy sludge. Honestly, the same could be said for the chocolate fountain, the yogurt maker and the panini press.

Let’s move through the wood-carving kit, the pottery wheel and the boxes of language learning software that we all once invested in, boldly and optimistically, during a midlife crisis. The ambition was valiant; however, the handcrafted artisanal bowl never seemed to surface from the lump of clay and the fluency in foreign languages came to a screeching halt after learning the word for “bathroom” in two different languages.

That moves us into the ever-controversial item. The item we have moved from place to place since the beginning of our adult years … grandma’s old couch. With the design sensibility of a 1960s Sunday School lounge, this memory-holding relic, complete with its faded floral tapestry and creaky springs, comes complete with the smell of mothballs and regret. This couch is far past vintage and now proudly holds the title of ecclesiastic archaism. Fortunately, couches don’t talk and it’s time for you to say the final word, that of “goodbye.” Moving is the perfect excuse to let it retire with dignity, somewhere other than the front porch or the valuable space in your moving van.

Clearly, there are many other items that would not warrant a place on the goodbye wagon, and perhaps with the money saved on the extra space on the moving van, one could invest in a temporary dumpster instead — and finally free up their future from the ghost of projects never started, furniture better left behind. After all, a dumpster doesn’t judge, it only bets you to “let it go.” It is honest and raw, and that kind of emotional support is priceless.

Jen Fischer is an associate broker and Realtor. She can be reached at 801-645-2134 or jen@jen-fischer.com.