• two bottles medication. one human, one lizard.
• one plastic... something. which once had name and purpose.
• a pack of stickers. purchase date: early childhood.
• a piece of ribbon. too short, too short.
• a yellow marker. always the one unused.
• a tiny yellow plastic cup. used quite a bit.

• eight mechanical pencils.
• three felt-tipped pens.
• seven ballpoints.
• five hardened erasers. i was persuaded to keep every single wooden pencil. which could be considered disaster supplies. by someone who reads far too much post-apocalyptic literature.

• a bottle of makeup. wishful thinking.
• a bottle of theanine. not one of my essential aminos, apparently.
• a pair of pajamas. the easiest kind of clothing to keep around for too long. 
• a pile of dead ballpoint pens. one of which i picked up at a juneau hotel during my honeymoon twelve years ago. it outlasted my relationship by three years, though probably got less use.

• a bottle of cheap lotion. never buy the cheap lotion.
• a bottle of cheap shampoo. never buy the cheap shampoo.
• a cool pin. that i do not wear.
• a bra. workhorse no more.
• five spent markers. we have a lot of writing utensils in this house.

• five children's books. just the beginning.
• all the pens in the house that no longer work. i still have two jars of pens and four of pencils.
• one three-drawer plastic organizer.
• one beautiful shirt.