after seeing one too many episodes of that A&E tv show hoarders, i spent the better part of the day in my junk room, sorting, organizing and throwing things away. most people i know who live in nyc don't have a room to shove stuff into, to make the rest of the apartment look halfway decent. i've been doing it for years, so you can imagine what it looks like. that room has spoiled me. if things keep going this way, it will undo me. i need it now -- or rather, we need it now -- so circumstance has forced me to seriously deal with everything in there. and of course, nothing makes it happen like a deadline.
i don't know what it is -- change in the weather, weight loss, hanging out at everyone else's hot spots, or the nightmarish situations those filthy obsessive people get themselves into -- but for some strange reason, i'm turning into howard hughes.
or maybe i'm just reveling in the special feeling that only a clean room can give me.
feng shui says the first rule is, declutter. wish me luck. i'd like to give myself a cleaned out second bedroom for my birthday.
and no. i'm not a hoarder. things are in complete and utter disarray in there, but i know where everything is.