Me vs. the Closet Under the Stairs

I didn't write last night because I was totally dead. I was sound asleep by ten. And today I'm still sore and my muscles don't really want to do anything. But it was totally worth it.

The closet under the stairs is basically where I threw all of my stuff that wouldn't fit in my room. I never really unpacked after my parents moved because my room in this house is about half the size of my old room and it has way less storage. Then when I moved back home from college I brought all that stuff with me, and it all ended up in there too. I knew sorting through it would be a monumental task because there's so much and you couldn't really even get in there, so I put it off for more than a year.

It probably would have just stayed that way except that I keep needing stuff out of there. And when I go in to look for whatever it is, it's impossible to find anything. For one thing, the boxes are labeled with really useless labels, like "stuff", or with the location of where it was in my old room, which doesn't tell me anything because I don't remember where anything was in there either. I can't really blame my mom for the problem though, because she had to pack all of my stuff while I was gone and didn't know what goes with what else.

So a couple of days ago I went hunting around for a couple of art projects that I wanted to photograph for my Flash final project, which is a portfolio website. I spent about half an hour digging around in there not finding them and finally just got really fed up. So I resolved to wait until classes end, drag everything out of there, get rid of the stuff I don't want and reorganize and label the rest.

Well, yesterday I was feeling better than usual. I got out of class super early because we just had a test, and I got an icee on the way home. I was feeling pretty much caught up in my classes again, and felt like doing something besides homework. Plus I had a serious sugar high in my favor. So I pulled all of that stuff out of there and filled up my small room. My dog thought it was very interesting and had fun smelling everything.

Just dragging it all out, even with the help of my mom, was enough to wear me out. But I went through almost all of it anyway. By the time I stopped I had two huge trashbags of stuff to go to Good Will, two to put out in the trash, a bunch of recycling and everything else sorted into categories. I was also shaking and sweating and feeling like I was on the point of falling over, and my muscles were all aching and sore. Even all the little ones in my hands.

Most of it is still in my room because there was no way I was going to be able to drag things back into the closet last night. I'm still sore today but I'm going to try to finish it anyway, if I can.

Despite it's completely flattening me, I feel so much better about life having done all this. Now I have less stuff, I know where it is and it's the stuff I actually want. Plus I have some really neat things in there. I have a really nice shell collection that I didn't even know about, lol. Yet another useful thing about having a lousy memory.