We've been doing some serious spring cleaning. And by "we," I really mean I semi-conned Bryce into staying up until all hours of the night rearranging and cleaning out for days on end. He did get a new desk out of it, not to mention a much better feeling house, but all the same... For him it ended up being less of a "Hooray! Spring break!" and more of a  "Spring break... now get to work!" Being the fantastic husband he is, he never complained and we got everything cleaned, rearranged, and bought a few little things to spruce up the apartment. It's amazing what a few new pillows can do for the sanity. Anyway... the point is that this spring cleaning extravaganza has made me realize just how much junk I haul around with us. Bryce and I have the same conversation every move (and plenty of times between moves):
     Bryce: "Hey, lets get rid of everything we own when we have to move again and just get all new stuff." (When we actually have a job of course)
     Me: "But that'd be so expensive!"
     Bryce: (insert some reminder about the cost of moving and storage)
     Me: "But...but...but..."
and so forth and so on. I always win of course, but not because I have any sort of logical reason to keep any of it. I mean, yes the furniture works, but none of it fits together in the least. Yes, the kitchen stuff is limping along, but most of it is really worn out and crappy. Yes, the bookshelves are great for storage, but what bookshelf isn't? I don't have any excuse for most of the stuff in the basement storage, so that I win on pure sentimentality--which would be fine if it was all pictures and love notes, but most of it is extra kitchen stuff and decorations, or that thing that I keep saying "someday I'll use" but never have yet. I realized the other day that with every move, and every thought of moving, Bryce wins me over to his side by doing nary a thing; he just sits back and lets logic slowly seep into my brain (which is far more difficult than it should be).
My conclusion: the sentimentality/usefulness of a thing is directly proportional to a: the distance it has to be moved, and b: the amount of times it has to be moved. 
Also... Dear Spring, I'm so glad you are here again. Oh! How I've missed you!