We Shall Overcome

Day Two of the Mass Exodus of Crap continues...

Today I skipped the gym after finding every machine occupied. I decided it was a divine sign to go home and fill up more trash bags. I begin my trial in our bedroom. I noticed that we had three handmade afghans sitting by the telelvision in the armoire. I remember that one of them is small and was knitted by a little old lady as a wedding gift to us. I like it and keep it around because it's exactly the size to throw around my shoulders while in bed and reading. The other two...I don't know. I felt bad putting them in the garbage bag. I mean someone somewhere MADE them with their withered, arthritic little hands clicking that crochet needle along miles of brown and mustard colored yarn from Wal-Mart. On the other hand. Money vs Someone. Money wins. I then opened the two bottom cabinets in the armoire. No one has been in there since 2003. I know this for a FACT. Our dog died that year and that's where we kept all his things and we haven't been able to look at them since. I left his things in there. I still can't give them away. But I did pull out about 25 VCR tapes of movies we like some of which I hadn't the vaguest clue we owned but I remember having to fulfill my Columbia House contract with something. I also found another blanket and a duffel bag. Feeling triumphant I led onto the closet. I mean we've been very good about getting things out of the closet we no longer wear. How much could be in there?

My husband discovered me behind a four foot high pile of things two hours later. I had answered the question about where my favorite white t-shirt had gone (on the floor behind a suitcase). I had reboxed the shoes I was keeping since I had all of the empty boxes sitting on the shelves, just the shoes were in a pile on the floor. I cleaned out two drawers of purses, belts and scarves. I figured if someone was going to buy the Turnip Dress then they might as well have the matching black and white geometric bag to match. Horrid! But I kept the shoes since their black patenet BCBG kitten heels. I found my pearls. I discarded sweaters like I was moving to Hawaii. I went through two Rubbermaid tubs of maternity clothes that have been parked in my closet in huge Rubbermaid continers for no reason that I can think of since my chid was born two years ago. I kept one tub worth JUST IN CASE. I tossed out a pair of four inch high silver heels because I'm not a stripper. I ditched a zip up fleecy thing that made me feel like an aqua colored marshmallow. My husband came in as I was contemplating a Banana Republice summer knit dress that I love and hadn't seen since '04 when I must have mistakenly stuck it in with maternity, some Spanx that may have been past their prime and a belt that I haven't been able to wear since I haven't had a 25 inch waist in...a while.

His reaction- Gosh. And...where did we get all this stuff? And where were we hiding it? And who paid for it?

And people, that wasn't even his stuff, my lingerie drawers or the shelevs I keep my serious pruses on. I got a long way to go here. And I'm NOT wearing a Barenaked Ladies t-shirt stained with purple paint and jeans two sizes too small with a hole in the ass and a pair of loafers with brown stacked heels while I'm doing up. Why? BECAUSE I'D RATHER HAVE THE MONEY AND THE SPACE.