Clean

Last weekend Dan made me promise to start tidying up my bedroom. Oy freaking vey.

It's not that Dan was being pushy or anything. It's just that my room is a freaking disaster. The only reason I'm in my bedroom is to be in my bed--I don't have a TV in there, and it's not very big so there's no place to sit or anything, so bedroom=bed in my mind.

My bedroom also has a miniscule closet, and for the longest time I didn't have a chest of drawers or dresser or anything. I shipped most of my clothes from Boston here to Fort Worth, and they arrived in giant cardboard boxes that I never totally unpacked. I picked up more clothes from my parents in DC, who shipped them in smaller cardboard boxes that I never totally unpacked. Even after I got some rinky-dink drawer things (because I am cheap and poor), it wasn't doing a lot of good. The drawers of one would fall out even if the drawer was only open two inches.

So anyway. All my clothes were basically in heaps, flowing out of boxes and those pop-up laundry bags. Lots were on the floor in heaps. Lots were also in the back of my car, another thing still not unpacked from the move. (YES, I realize I've been here two years now, but stick with me here.)

Over the long Thanksgiving weekend I started mowing through my clothes--lots of washing; three cycles in our dryer, which doesn't have much power; lots of folding and hanging and carefully making stacks of clothing. Dan promised me an old dresser with working drawers from his parents' place. My room all of the sudden has a floor. I have two garbage bags full of clothes and shoes and whatnot to donate to Goodwill. I suddenly have a lovely bedroom, even found some superglue to fix some of the art pieces I had to hang on the walls.

I love my bedroom now. I hope I can keep it relatively clean. I'm still not spending any time in there, though.