Caution: Spring cleaning work zone

Today, I tackled the beast. It was a six hour battle where victory was never certain. It was hard. It was scary. It was physically and emotionally draining.

Today, I cleaned out my closet.

As a general a rule I don’t believe in spring cleaning, mostly because I try to avoid anything that may require exertion on my end, which cleaning inevitably does. But then I realized it was taking me at least 20 minutes longer to get ready in the morning because I spent too much time digging around for dresses and tights and things I could have sworn I once possessed before it occurred to me my closet was actually a black hole and blah blah blah, I decided to straighten up. It was now or never.

It took me six hours, with several meltdowns and froyo breaks in between.

Poor little shoes. Buried alive and such.

I started by taking everything out of my closet. Like, everything. Every shoe, every hanger, every smashed up handbag, etc. This part was actually pretty easy, considering half of my closet was already on the floor in heaps scattered throughout the apartment. That’s just sort of how I live. And except for that one weekend when I randomly decided I was a minimalist, I have this issue with getting rid of stuff. Because, like, what if I end up needing it?

To be honest, I was sort of surprised by how much I had managed to squeeze in what’s probably one of THE smallest closets ever. Impressed, even. I kind of felt like Mary Poppins, which was awesome because I love Mary Poppins. But then panic set in. WHAT HAD I STARTED?

I decided to tackle my shoes first, lining them up. I even bit my tongue and threw away three threadbare pairs that I have literally worn to pieces.

Once I had them put away, it was time to attack the mountains of clothing threatening to eat me alive. But first, a bit of prep. Back in my days working retail (which I will never ever ever do again), we used to rub wax paper along clothing racks to keep hangers from squeaking. It seems silly, but it really does make a big difference.

Then it was time to throw everything back in there. I tried to organize it all first by style and then by color. Hangers are always high in demand, so I started by hanging only the things I absolutely love and wear regularly. And with the exception of maybe two sweaters, I left all my winter stuff out so I could pack it away later. I threw all scarves and mittens into a bag and tucked it away on the top shelf, and then I picked over whatever remained to determine what I could bear to part with. Which wasn’t much, but once I threw away a top or two into a plastic bag where I couldn’t see it, I realized I forgot about it pretty quickly.

Then, bit by bit, I hung the rest back up.

It wasn’t all misery. In fact, it probably would have only taken me half the time had I not stopped to try everything on. And I did make a few rediscoveries along the way, including a few summer dresses that made me squeal with glee when I remembered they belonged to me.

But for the most part it sucked.

A Sunday well spent? It’s hard to say, especially knowing that all my hard work will probably be shot to hell within a week or two. But if it means I get to sleep in a little longer tomorrow morning knowing where all my clothes are, I suppose that makes it all worth it.

Did anyone else attempt some spring cleaning this weekend?

About Kathryn

Journalist, velvet enthusiast.
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