Yesterday there was a catharsis.
And it feels real good.
While D#1 is off enjoying the life collegiate, I took the opportunity to go through her closet and drawers. Bags for garbage and Goodwill were gathered. I vaccuumed — behind the furniture.
Whenever I go through a room, closet or drawer like this, it gives me such a good feeling that throughout the day I will return to it simply to gaze upon its structured beauty. Its good, clean lines. The poetry in the organization.
You would think that would be enough. Should be enough.
But No!! My happy good feeling was ruined by my very own closet.
I have a nice sized walk in closet. 1/4 of it goes to the Boar for his suits (how this arrangement came about is a conversation for another day). 5/8 of it goes to all the clothes that don’t fit and the remaining 1/8 is for those that do.
You don’t have piles of clothes that no longer fit? The things that dreams/nightmares are made of? You don’t also feel the despair and frustration of looking at those f-ing piles every morning?
I went so far as to tell myself that the pile of jeans ranging over four sizes not only might fit me some magical day but would also be great for craft projects.
So now I not only got to have it on my weight conscience, it was doing double duty as a craft/stash guilt supplier! aaaarrrrrhhhhh!
Well that is all over.
I emerged victorious and have six big garbage bags to take to a Katrina drop off site.
Did I do this all alone? nah!