I have moved five times in the past six years. First I moved into my college dorm; then into my first apartment; then into the first apartment I shared with Hubs; then into the trailer-cabin on a mountain; and finally into our current house.
By the fourth move, I was literally labeling boxes with phrases like "Stupid junk" and "Clutter for storage." As a result, by the time we moved into this house, we were the proud owners of two closets full of mystery boxes that hadn't been opened since 2010. These boxes were packed not when we moved out of our last place, but the place before that.
The worst part is, all this crap is mine. Hubs hardly has any boxes full of random, unidentifiable stuff. So there is absolutely no way to slough this task off on him.
This year, I have assigned myself the mission of unpacking these boxes and sorting through their contents. And I must say, it's turned out to be surprisingly awesome. Most of the things in the boxes are being donated, but every once in a while I find something I genuinely liked and completely forgot I owned. It's like temporarily losing all your possessions and then, just when you'd given up hope, finding them again.
So if you want to give your future self a surprise gift without actually spending any money, just box up a bunch of your stuff and let it sit in a closet for three years. Afraid you won't be able to afford presents at the holidays this year? Start causing your loved ones' belongings to mysteriously disappear over the next few months, then kick back and revel in the joy* on their faces when everything magically reappears under a thin disguise of gift wrap.
*joy might gradually morph into dawning rage