Trashing the past

I was cleaning out my desk the other day, amazed that it even needed cleaning after two weeks of existence, and I came across a comment card that was used at my last (waitressing) job. Now, I know as well as anyone else that the "profession" of waiter/waitress is not widely respected perhaps because said waitstaff is known to be a bit crass at times and is in fact, motivated entirely by money. I can attest however that there is a sort of glory to the job. Extreme stress followed by immediate relief and a handful of cash. For this reason I saved the comment card that read, "We Love Ashley," written by a 20-something couple (the hardest to please, as a 20-something myself.) I saved the card as affirmation that I was good at the job and that people liked me. But the other day, I threw it out, closed the garbage lid and walked away. For the next few hours, as I tossed out old mail, banana peels, candy wrappers, etc. I was sure to avoid sinking the proclamation of love I had saved for many months. I held on and then let go, finally, when the need to use my garbage for garbage superceded the desire to make it a shrine to myself. And then it dissapeared.