Welcome to my closet. My master bedroom closet. As in, built for two. But it's full for one.
Tonight I participated in my bi-yearly ritual of switching winter clothes with summer clothes. Out with the white pants, in with the sweaters. And even with shucking the seersucker jacket, tank tops and swimsuit coverups, my closet is still stuffed. I really do need professional help.
Oh, and the big news is that, as of this morning, this crammed packed closet is officially mine. So I suppose I can fill it as full as I want to. Or paint it pink and adorn it with rhinestones. After all, by signing my name beside all of those zeros, I'm entitled to fix it up as I wish while I make payments on it for the next 360 months.
So I suppose it's for the best that I don't have to share my closet. Yeah, sometimes the nights are lonely, but I do have a lot of space for my handbags.
And the boy? He needs professional help, too. But for totally different reasons.
2 comments:
Wha? Why? What are the reasons?!? I need more details!
Congrats on the debt, I mean house :)
If there is pink or rhinestones involved, please call me. I would like to help!
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