![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Well, we got a bit more news about the house. It looks like we'll be settling a week earlier than planned. The owners have really buckled down on getting the repairs done, and they should be finished by the end of the week, so they've asked if we'd like to move up the settlement date. Does anyone else get the feeling that they're eager to get out of this place? Not that I can blame them. I dread the thought of having the house and apartment simultaneously and that will 1) only be for a few months, 2) require far less responsibility than owning two houses, and 3) be far less expensive than owning two houses!
Of course, we've agreed to this. That extra week will give us time to wax the hardwood floors, clean the basement carpet, and start painting, which will free more time the week we move in to get things done ... and maybe find a few moments to enjoy the new place as well!
Yesterday, I finally got around to committing a necessary evil: cleaning my closet. For some time now, I have needed to get rid of some old clothes that I had in there. I still have--and wear!--clothes that I bought when I was around 14 years old. Some of these things fit, but most of them I've outgrown, not surprisingly, since that was half a lifetime ago.
But I am not--and never have been--one who regularly buys copious amounts of clothes and discards those that have since gone out of style. I only infrequently buy new clothes, so those that I do buy are generally things that I really like and envision wearing for years to come. And my style has changed little since I was thirteen years old and is probably best classified as a mix of hippie and medieval, weird as that probably sounds.
So the clothes in my closet are pieces that I adore, that I usually chose for a special reason or was given by someone else and treasure for that reason. Bobby and my mom, in particular, have always been good at picking out clothes for me. So, silly as it sounds, I was heartbroken to consider giving away my old clothes. But they simply don't fit anymore. When I was younger, I always wanted a nice figure but was stuck being stick thin. Now I have the nice figure and have discovered that shirts that fit a flat-chested, stick-thin girl only reach her bellybutton once she gets boobs. Those things take up quite a lot of room in the shirt! And most of my dresses won't even zip all the way up the back anymore.
I console myself by hoping that someone else will get as much joy out of my old clothes as I did. They're certainly unique ... so maybe a flat-chested, stick-thin medieval hippie girl will find them and fall in love, as I did.
I asked Bobby to take them to Goodwill as soon as he could, lest I start doubting and rummaging through the bags: "Well, this would be okay if I wore if over a dress!" or "Maybe I'll be skinny enough to fit into these pants again!"
Or maybe someone who will both love and wear the clothes should do so.
But what this means now is that I must definitely get some new clothes. I've been in need for years and now can't even use the excuse that there's no room in the closet. *sigh*
Of course, we've agreed to this. That extra week will give us time to wax the hardwood floors, clean the basement carpet, and start painting, which will free more time the week we move in to get things done ... and maybe find a few moments to enjoy the new place as well!
Yesterday, I finally got around to committing a necessary evil: cleaning my closet. For some time now, I have needed to get rid of some old clothes that I had in there. I still have--and wear!--clothes that I bought when I was around 14 years old. Some of these things fit, but most of them I've outgrown, not surprisingly, since that was half a lifetime ago.
But I am not--and never have been--one who regularly buys copious amounts of clothes and discards those that have since gone out of style. I only infrequently buy new clothes, so those that I do buy are generally things that I really like and envision wearing for years to come. And my style has changed little since I was thirteen years old and is probably best classified as a mix of hippie and medieval, weird as that probably sounds.
So the clothes in my closet are pieces that I adore, that I usually chose for a special reason or was given by someone else and treasure for that reason. Bobby and my mom, in particular, have always been good at picking out clothes for me. So, silly as it sounds, I was heartbroken to consider giving away my old clothes. But they simply don't fit anymore. When I was younger, I always wanted a nice figure but was stuck being stick thin. Now I have the nice figure and have discovered that shirts that fit a flat-chested, stick-thin girl only reach her bellybutton once she gets boobs. Those things take up quite a lot of room in the shirt! And most of my dresses won't even zip all the way up the back anymore.
I console myself by hoping that someone else will get as much joy out of my old clothes as I did. They're certainly unique ... so maybe a flat-chested, stick-thin medieval hippie girl will find them and fall in love, as I did.
I asked Bobby to take them to Goodwill as soon as he could, lest I start doubting and rummaging through the bags: "Well, this would be okay if I wore if over a dress!" or "Maybe I'll be skinny enough to fit into these pants again!"
Or maybe someone who will both love and wear the clothes should do so.
But what this means now is that I must definitely get some new clothes. I've been in need for years and now can't even use the excuse that there's no room in the closet. *sigh*
Tags:
