Tonight I cleaned my bedroom. Well, actually, I cleared -- changed my sheets and remade the bed with an actual duvet and cover; cleared off the nightstand; returned items to the closet; and especially cleared off my dresser from its months of accumulated and laundered-but-not-put-away clothing. The pile was was about four feet high. Why? I've been dressing out of the dryer.
I'm not ashamed of this, and I'm certainly not Foul Bachelorette Frog (though messy, my apartment is rarely truly dirty, and my body is always clean.) But I do seem to have become a much less snappy dresser than when I first moved to Massachusetts. What the heck happened? But never mind that for now.
You know, dear Reader, It's fascinating to see what was stylish several seasons ago. It's like geology. Picking away at the earth's core. Garment gravity. Fashion sediment. I realized it this morning when shifting occurred and re-orientation of the clothing strata took place due to tectonic forces as I joyfully attempted to free a certain pair of underwear from deep within the pile. The original horizontality let go, and... AVALANCHE!!! Butchie was nearly buried alive.
So I took action. And I have been trying to get to it for weeks... ok, months. But there's always something much more fun to do! Can you blame me for putting this job off? I can't.
There's still more to be done, but seeing the top of the dresser is a good start. More cleaning tomorrow. Ta!