So many things to get rid of, and to answer for:

Now to confront the possessions you already have. This will require serious
design work, and this will be painful. It is a good idea to get a friend or
several friends to help you.

You will need to divide your current possessions into four major categories.

1. Beautiful things.
2. Emotionally important things.
3. Tools, devices, and appliances that efficiently perform a useful
function.
4. Everything else.

"Everything else" will be by far the largest category. Anything you have not
touched, or seen, or thought about in a year -- this very likely belongs in
"everything else."

You should document these things. Take their pictures, their identifying
makers' marks, barcodes, whatever, so that you can get them off eBay or Amazon if, for some weird reason, you ever need them again. Store those digital
pictures somewhere safe -- along with all your other increasingly valuable,
life-central digital data. Back them up both onsite and offsite.

Then remove them from your time and space. "Everything else" should not be in your immediate environment, sucking up your energy and reducing your
opportunities. It should become a fond memory, or become reduced to data.

It may belong *to* you, but it does not belong *with* you. You weren't born
with it. You won't be buried with it. It needs to be out of the space-time
vicinity. You are not its archivist or quartermaster. Stop serving that unpaid
role.

from The Last Viridian Note, by Bruce Sterling [h/t BB]

I feel like the first thing to do is to make a spreadsheet, with columns for "name of object," "beautiful?", "useful?", "upgradeable?", and "disposition." But if you know me you know this .xls-making impulse is a bit of a trap/dodge. Still, there has been something in my personal air for a bit that desperately makes me want to get rid of everything, start not so much from scratch as a kind of clean. Objects are really the least of it, though, and the Sterling's directive to digitize everything assumes a life somewhat different-lived (as in better-lived?) than mine. A proper inventory would turn out to be chock full of virtual, emotional and reputational objects tying me down - credit card bills, unreturned phone calls, unkept promises to others and myself - go to the gym, finally have that drink, call your mother more regularly, et cetera, et cetera. And let's not get into the lingering resentments and lists of the unforgiven, the book of grudges; all that alone could fill a modest and thoroughly toxic self-storage space. Getting rid of and upgrading my actual, atomic stuff would be the easy part for me. Given that you literally always have to start somewhere, I guess that is to the good, if not quite to my proverbial credit.

i0001 - Westinghouse LCD - a keeper
i0002 - Comcast digital cable box (useless; I killed my cable)
i0003 - Series II (?) TIVO (useless; I killed my cable)
i0004 - Ikea metal rack on wheels; useful but ugly
i0005 - misc cabling