With all due respect to Em.in.em (who I strangely love), it is not as interesting as he makes it sound. We are T-minus 3.5 months and counting from the big move from Whooville to NewCity. Mr. Whoo has been a packing machine (watch him get down), and we are getting ready to pack the first of our P.O.D.S. in anticipation of the move. Unfortunately, the closet has been begging and pleading for our mutual attention. We have been fortunate enough to be blessed with a home with a large master closet. Well, I guess I mean blessed and cursed, because every damn thing that does not have a home ends up in our spacious closet. Oh, shit! Company coming? Shove it in the closet. Stacks of paper with no where to put it? The closet sounds like a good idea! No time to deal with it now? Put it in the closet. And so on, and so forth for 3+ years and counting. Except now? We need to show the house, awesome closet and all. Not to mention the fact that we need to pack, and, my lord! Do we really need all of this *stuff*?
So, for the last few days, we have been working on the closet. I have been forced to go through all of my clothing, hanging on hangers in the closet since 1991. I am not kidding. There were clothes in my closet that I wore in high school, and I have the yearbook pictures to prove it. To me, this begs the question...why in the *hell* am I holding on to these clothes? For one, there is no hope in hell of me fitting into my old high school clothes...ever. And, even if I managed to get back down to 110 pounds soaking wet, would I really be wearing a flowered shirt from The Limited? Really? (Does that store even exist anymore?) I took the plunge, made some hard (ahem) choices, and managed to purge more than half of my closet in favor of donations to Good.will. Going through the clothes was kind of therapeutic and fun, in a way. I finally parted with the cute gray skirt I would wear out on chilly nights in college with tights, and the sundry "dressy" skirts I would wear to my sorority chapter meetings. There were a lot of good memories in that closet, and, hopefully, the clothes that I donated will go on to a new owner (someone that can actually fit into them) and be a part of their memories. I feel a bit anthropomorphic, thinking of my clothes this way, but hey, I am the girl who cried about packing away stuffed animals because I thought they would miss me (damn you Veleveteen Rabbit book!)
I am finding that the more of the clutter that we pack away, the clearer my mind becomes. I have loved visiting the past by sorting through old clothes and sundry items stashed in the closet, but I have also felt comfortable leaving them behind and moving on to better things. I feel good about moving forward, and I am happy to be getting closer to a new life...one closet at a time. I hope you all are well...Happy Friday the 13th!