Out-of-the-box experience

There's this box I keep in my closet. I guess you could call it my "TBD" box - where I put things that are To Be Discarded, things To Be Delighted with, To Be Delved into, To Be Dreaded, To Be Dreamed up, To Be Destroyed, or just simply, To Be Determined. Examples of said things include old bank statements, letters/cards from loved ones, confusing promotional offers, tax forms, half-finished sketches, copies of speeding tickets and free airline vouchers, respectively.
Once in about 2 months, I take out this box. Usually on a weekend such as this one, when I have a nagging responsibility I just don't feel like facing, so instead of feeling completely useless I turn to The Box.
I usually end up tearing up most of the stuff because it's obsolete or confusing and more or less pointless to retain. Some other stuff gets assigned new hiding places in shelves and accordion folders where I (hopefully) don't have to deal with them for a while. Or if I'm lucky, ever :)
Then there's the stuff that remains. The stubborn things that have lasted many cycles of such ritual cleansing. Like the letter my grandfather wrote in his old, formal style. Or the card my old roommate gave me before I moved. The brochure I created for an event I helped organize for a cause that was dear to my heart. The ticket to my first concert. The gift I bought someone close to me that I never ended up giving...and never ended up giving up either.
Funny how this pattern repeats itself every couple of months. To get into the box in the first place, things need to be stamped with a seal of "Important - pay attention to this!" Couple of months later, it's funny how financial offers, insurance papers, utility bills and other 'important' documents find their way into my recycling heap and all that remains is stuff that probably have no practical or economic value.
Goes to show how much economists know about value, huh?