Scared of losing all your storage? Got a plethora of kitty pics (no, literally) that you just can’t sacrifice? Well, if you’re like all of us after the recent Google Drive announcement, you’ll have to Marie Kondo your way through your drive prior to Oct. 31. So, here are the CT’s suggestions for what files to metaphorically give the Bachelorette rose to, and which you should just kick to the curb.
1. Any homework assignments from your first year
We’re not talking about projects — no, no. Take all your straight-up menial labor-type homework and trash it. Do you really need those 40 untitled documents with shitty ASL grammar-ified scripts for your Panopto responses? No. Get that outta here. The only exception is if you took BCS 110. Keep those notes, and use them to further society for the good of the whole. Sell them to scared incoming pre-meds for the big bucks. They don’t have to know that half of your notes are just the phrase “MAKE A TABLE” in different fonts until they receive the file.
2. Any PDF file that you don’t need for the semester
Not only can you redownload PDFs, but what are you really going to do with all these readings on your computer about advanced topology and syntactic theory? Neeeeeeeeerd. Touch grass and then use that brand new sensory input as motivation to hit delete.
3. Any final paper or project
Let’s be real, do you actually remember creating these? Between all the all-nighters and triple shots (you decide which kind), these papers are either a blur or a fever dream. Respect their chaos by tossing them in the trash — after all, you’ll only know you love them if you let them go.
4. All the furry porn
We all have our vices.
5. Miscellaneous bullshit
Just doing a cursory glance through your Drive will remind you of how many things you’ve done throughout your collegiate career (ew, gross — existential crisis much?) and will also remind you that you need to get your shit organized. A lyrics document to “Hey Ya” by Outkast? A proposed schedule for an interdisciplinary major you never created? A PDF that just has a singular smiley face on it in 72-point font? You’re past that. New Drive, new you.