Speaking of neglected... I need help. My closet has gotten so scary. I dread walking into it. There's just so much STUFF packed in. It used to be an organized cramming of clothes, now it's just a sloppy mess of random clothes. I find myself putting things in my spare bedroom/office closet. I can't find it in me to get rid of my "skinny" clothes because 1.) they're so darn expensive I would never make half of what I paid even on eBay 2.) I am determined to get back in them... but then I face the dilemma of what to do with my current "chubby" clothes!!! I have EQUALLY as expensive stuff making me NOT won't to shed the weight... ahaha ok that's a lie, I'd do anything to lose weight and reward myself with a smaller size... but still, it would hurt a little to lose weight and give up my designer denim that fit me now. I have a sickness. I brought out HALF of the jeans I own and I practically covered my bed... I am writing this so you can make fun of me and help me seek a road to treatment... I am obsessed with jeans! And yet, my weight is in this funky stage where I HATE to wear them because of the 'muffin top'. So... I need to hustle and get my butt back into these things.
If my dad reads this, he. will. shoot. me. <-- not kidding. He had a conniption one year when Sher made him buy me True Religions for Christmas 4 years ago. He said he they had better be stitched with gold and make me coffee in the morning for that price... But then again... kettle...pot... this is the guy who shoved my step mom out of the walk-in closets (yes, both) in the masters, the spare bedrooms, and his office, full of his clothes. If I'm lyin', I'm dyin'. The man had 5 closets and counting. Jam packed. Shoes out the wazoo. I guess that's who I take after... I love it though because when he even mentions how much I have, I just remind him who has more closets than his wife... than Sarah Jessica Parker for that matter. Unlike most dads who dread shopping, my dad loved it. Sher and I were so so so so lucky to have him as a dad. It's weird to hear men avoiding malls like the plague. I seriously had to be rewired to realize guys hate malls. It was so foreign to me, since my dad absolutely loved shopping. I still give Ordy a hard time if he can't last two hours...
My shoes in my closet... whole 'nother story... I have about 3 crammed on each other per shelf, and all the way shoved in the back. I found 3 pairs of shoes today, while looking for a different, that I don't even remember when I bought them or anything else but I seriously caught myself laughing thinking, 'oh, these are cute!' DUH they're cute... I mean not that you might think they're cute, but obviously I think they're cute to buy them at one point... I dunno, I made myself chuckle. But the sad point? That I own ALL these shoes, shoes I've thrown hissy fits over and spent who knows how much on, and yet EVERY DAY I wear my Havaiana flip flops that I spent $3 on
in Brazil. WHAT is WRONG with ME?!
|Only the LEFT side of my closet... Walk in side on RIGHT|
|25% of my shoes. 75% elsewhere in tubbies/organizers in other side|
Something is clearly wrong. I need an intervention. The last time I had an intervention, I was staring at a closet with about 30% of it having tags on the clothing... and the intervention was no more buying clothes until I lose weight. Did it work? Yes!! I have DRASTICALLY cut the clothes shopping... but the plan BACKFIRED because I am loading up on things that weight won't interfere with... like purses, watches, sunglasses, and shoes. I won't even start talking about jewelry. (Don't worry 90% of my jewelry consists of Forever 21 costume jewelry- but I buy so much random crap I don't remember what I buy or where I put them because I justify that it was ONLY $3.80).
I need to get to bed. I want to get to bed, but I have about 4 loads of clean laundry that don't have space in my closet or dresser. This is what put me in this panicked mood. Where did all this stuff come from?? And to think, two months ago, I took over Ordy Boy's guest bedroom closet for stuff to keep there. Ugh. I'm in a purging mood, but I'm a hoarder. I can't get rid of anything. Not even that xs polo shirt from high school and those size 2 shorts... I'll fit in them one day, right? Not a chance. Bleh. Just the thought of emptying and getting rid of stuff in my closet makes me nauseous- the process. I just want to close my eyes and have someone do it- because I obviously don't even know what's in there- ignorance is bliss...
Ordy Boy will be here at 8 am tomorrow morning so we can hit up some Estate Sales... like I need anything else... We're just doing it for the fun of it, not really on a mission for anything. I need to get some rest...
Just know that I'm going to crawl in bed with my new bag on my shoulder- not because I love it so, but because I'm terrified my closet will swallow it.