Since I have been off work my intent has been to get things organized around here. Cleaning cabinets and closets is a lot like infrastructure projects. So not sexy, but eventually a crumbling disaster that needs to be addressed before someone gets hurt by an avalanche of comforters and pillow shams from every decorating phase.
I took a detour to paint both bathrooms but have tackled something organizational every week. It helps that I am in a ruthless mood and more than willing to let things go. A few months from now I may be cursing that ruthlessness but for now I am going to embrace it.
My first project was the upstairs linen closet. I pulled every single thing out of there. Based only on the barely used hair products and makeup that were in abundance, I clearly suffer from self-esteem issues. Is there no limit to the lipsticks, moisturizers and anti-frizz creams that a girl needs to enhance their look and boost confidence? Not in my world.
I tackled the ironing basket next where I found a denim shirt that makes me look thinnish that I wore once. How could I have lost track of something as magical as that? A favorite white shirt that I haven’t been able to part with for years but that had a Minwax stain (colonial) on the sleeve that I never could get out. Two pillow forms from that week when I thought I’d go into the pillow making business.
The basement followed on the organizational agenda where I spent hours going through stacks of paper, stacks of scrapbooking supplies from when I was going to make a scrapbook for each kid but never did, and the remnants of a vintage business that was going to lead to my own retail store but never did.
I have made several trips to the thrift store to drop off stuffed garbage bags, filled shopping bags for shredding and pawned a few things off on my kids.
Today I went to the county hazardous waste disposal center after I filled the back of my car with the leftover paint that was going to get this house in a magazine some day but never did. I didn’t have as much as the car ahead of me that took a good ten minutes to unload, but it was an excess of every fleeting idea I’ve had when it comes to my home decor. Pints, quarts and gallons of rusted paint cans from the last twenty years.
That wasn’t even all of it. There’s more in the garage that I didn’t get to because, after all, it’s the garage and that’s another day. My basement now holds only the few paint options that are in the house currently. When I was starting the paint project on the bathrooms I made a run to the hardware store for ceiling paint. I found two half-used cans in the midst of my paint purge. Nothing like throwing away some more money when you’re not making any.
I got to talking with the kid that unloaded my car of my paint hoard and he asked if I knew about the paint program. “Why no I don’t,” I said. “We go through the paint and find the good usable stuff and mix it together. White, gray or beige are the color options. You can buy it in our shop and unlike here you don’t need an appointment. It’s indoor/outdoor paint and a great deal.”
“Really? So how much?”
“We sell it in five gallon containers for twenty five dollars.”
“That is awesome. Wow! Paint is so expensive and that’s such a great price. I have been thinking about painting my fen…….”
I snapped out of it, came to and came home.
Sheesh.
Enough, girlfriend. Enough.
