Every couple of months I go through my closet and make a trip to Goodwill. The cleaning spree is usually inspired by some television program, one usually involving Niecy Nash. Those "Clean House" episodes that feature hoarders scare the bejeezus out of me. The process is empowering. With every item that goes into the donate pile, I feel a little lighter. It's only until later when I'm at the mall or browsing online that I find a lust-worthy item. I convince myself to buy said item by reminding myself of all the crap I got rid of, so naturally there's room in the closet for another pair of shoes. It takes little convincing, really, as I do love me some shoes.
This season's purging session is long overdue. Almost a year overdue in fact. Now there's a pile of clothes, shoes and bags almost my height waiting for me to load into the car. The time has come, I've been postponing the inevitable for too long. Not only do I need to get this out of my apartment and get my tax-credit receipt, but I need to reclaim my floor space. The apartment is small enough, I don't need to sacrifice valuable square footage to things I no longer want.
The loading process wasn't as bad as anticipated, although it did require four trips up and down the stairs. Three volunteers helped unload the car. Within 10 minutes I was done and on my way.
The kicker of course is I should have been more vigilant before leaving the house. I opened my closet and immediately found more stuff that needs to get to Goodwill. Stat.
No comments:
Post a Comment