My closets are a good indicator of my mental health. If they are clean and organized, then usually, so is my brain. The reverse is also true. I take it as a good sign that I've been itching for both my brain and my closets to wake up and shake out. What possessed me to actually attack the closets this week is still a mystery. I was just frustrated one afternoon and took it out on the spices.
However, after a few days of labor (the kind of labor that is appropriate at this juncture), this particular project is finished. There is something so soothing about straight rows of boxes and bottles, neat stacks of towels, and labeled plastic bins. I love knowing how many expired, unused, broken, or unnecessary items I purged in the process (and I'm totally ignoring how embarrassed I was that I let it all accumulate). I didn't take any "before" pictures, so probably only Garry, my mom, and I will appreciate the drastic transformations.
The new spice cabinet (former home of RandomJunk.com):
The corner cabinet (formerly referred to as The Black Hole):
The cabinet above the dishwasher (up next: a child safety latch):
The linen closet (My mom would laugh whenever I told her something belonged in there. "Really? There's room for that?"):
Just for the record, I felt like an old lady at the end of my re-organizing days. It really was a bad idea to attempt this just as I am returning to a normal existence.
I have plans for two more closets, but I won't tackle those until we decide it's time to convert our fifth bedroom from office to nursery. And of course that can't happen until we know gender....and my sad body recovers from this week's activities.
But until then I can dream, right?