Today, Scott and I did a bit of um, winter cleaning. He had a "to-do" list, produced and added to daily by yours truly. I, meanwhile, had about seven loads of laundry and a stand-alone wardrobe that didn't close and really was busting at the seams.
FOUR LARGE garbage bags filled with clothes I didn't wear or didn't fit into (sad to admit) later... and the moment of truth occurred...
...I threw one door closed like always, began to walk out the room and nearly jumped out of my skin when I heard a slam. Apparently, for months I had done the door-close method consisting of a wave in the air from three feet away and the door landed softly on the overflow of sweaters and jeans. Not today, no way.
I must have gone through a plain and large stage, where I though plain, long-sleeve shirts that were one size too big were all the rage. Likely, it was due to my low self-esteem and low self-confidence, much preferring to hide behind something big and inconspicuous. So, I had to chuck out about 20 Gap and Old Navy shirts that were boring and wrinkled from being at the bottom of the piles for too long.
Salvation Army, here I come!
(I feel so much better, too. Whooo!) Now if I only could finish that laundry...