Moving, part 1

I moved every single year of college. And sometimes more than once if you count moving into a storage unit at the beginning of a summer and out of it at the end of the summer. While moving that much was definitely never fun, it gave me several chances to go through all of my stuff and decide what was worth keeping.

I've lived in the same apartment here in the Big City for the last three years. By myself. Which means a). I've accumulated a lot of crap; and b). there's been no impetus of having a roommate to make me want to keep things cleaned out for their sake. Thus you can begin to imagine the mounds of stuff through which I find myself sorting.

The biggest, scariest job of all (that I've been putting off) has been my big closet. And when I say big, I mean BIG -- 6 feet deep and 3.5-4 feet wide. I remember looking into that closet when I was looking at apartments to rent and thinking "Wow, that's really messy! I can't believe someone could let their closet get that disorganized. It looks like they just opened the door, threw stuff in, and then shut the door. If I end up in this apartment, I'll always keep that closet clean and neat."

Those were my famous last words. The closet has been a disaster for the last three years.

Until today. I finally decided to tackle it, and several hours later, here it is:


If only I had actually thought to take a "before" picture. But, as you can see, the closet is clean! I'm not quite sure that I'm going to need all of my scarves in California, but I couldn't bear to get rid of any of them just yet.

Next steps re: moving? More cleaning. While I have always loved this apartment for its abundant closet space, I'm cursing it now. Oh well. I have 2 down and 2 left to go, but after surviving the monster, I think I can handle anything!