Starting where I left off here, with my spectacularly good intentions of going through my wardrobe and picking out my 30 items for the 30 for 30 challenge...well I really meant it when I said that. But you see, Life had other plans for me. Those other plans revealed themselves the next evening when I got home from a long day at work revved up to pick out my 30 items. I walked into my room, and halted causing my friend to bump into me from behind. Then he saw what I saw and said "You really have the worst luck, don't you." Staring at the contents of my closet sprawling into the middle of my room, I said "Yes" and turned around, walked back out of my apartment and went to straight to tango. I wanted to be mad. I wanted to cry. But I mostly just stared into space, apathetic. It's true - I have terrible luck. I'm almost too used to this sort of thing happening to get angry about it anymore. My beautiful large closet, in my beautiful large apartment had collapsed. For once in my life I had a closet that could actually fit everything in it comfortably, not realizing that the closet wasn't really so comfortable with that situation.
That night when I got home from tango, I walked past the mess of clothes and spare linens oozing out of my closet, trying not to think about the wreckage, and climbed into bed. I would deal with it tomorrow.
The next morning, I was thankful to have the day off work (thank you Veterans for your service), mostly because I wasn't about to dig through that pile of wreckage in the wee hours of the morning to find an outfit. No thanks, I would have worn the exact same outfit as the previous day. As luck would have it (for my co-workers), I didn't have to even change out of my p-jammers. I steeled myself to the task at hands, and began emptying my closet of all of it's contents. I wish I'd taken pictures of the mess, but I wasn't in that frame of mind. What I do have are pictures of the damage in the desolate space.
Clearly a sturdy system...
Always looking for the lesson, and the silver lining, I decided that this was sign that it was high time I conducted another purge on my closet. So I took a picture of the mountain of clothing now inhabiting my bed, and sent my tango ladies an invitation to the next installment of our Clothing Exchange.
Over the next couple of weeks, I spent every evening, trying on, sorting, and purging my way through that mountain. Every morning, I would get dressed off of the top. This provided daily sartorial challenge, interest, and frustration. Finally, however, I sorted through everything and I was ready to put my much lighter load back into my closet.
The building manager came out the night before the Clothing Exchange, and put that sucker back up. He even added a few extra support bars, just in case. I was confident that this would be more than enough to hold my clothes securely. After all he's added more support and I had reduced the load by a significant amount! This was great! The next morning, I prepared for the evenings festivities, putting all of my clothing carefully back into my closet (oh, and so beautifully and perfectly organized. Exactly what I always wanted my closet to be!), cleaned like a maniac, and purchased and prepared edibles.
The ladies arrived, bringing neglected clothing of their own to add to my mountainous contribution, smiles, and general good cheer. The evening was perfect. I will have to tell you of my love of the Clothing Exchange on another occasion, because this tale is far from finished. At the end of the evening, the ladies carted off their hauls and I folded, boxed, and bagged the remainder to go to Salvation Army. Cleaning up the debris from the evening, I felt great satisfaction and happiness. There is nothing better than sharing good clothing and good cheer. And as I went to bed that I night, I smiled so happily at my perfectly organized closet.
This went on for a week and a half. Every day smiling in the morning and in the evening at my beautifully organized closet. In the meantime, the year was drawing to an end, and I was having dreams of finishing the organization and final unpackings of my room before the New Year began. As I got home one afternoon from work, filled to the brim with plans for finishing off my room, and finally FINALLY being done with it, I walked in and halted. You have got to be KIDDING me. You CANNOT be SERIOUS! There on my bedroom floor, sprawled like that unfortunate soul who gets too exited about ALCOHOL and passes out in the middle of the party before midnight, was my closet in all of her no-longer-hanging-up glory. I turned around, sat myself on the couch, turned on the TV, emailed the building manager, and proceeded to look for new closet systems on my own. I informed my building manager, that I would like him to please just come and remove everything from the walls, and patch it up and that I would be building my own closet, thank you very much.
The next weekend, amid family, and funerals, and general business, I bought and built myself a new closet. It is now a week and a half since I put that closet up with my very own hands, and it is still in place, smiling happily back at me every morning and every evening.
So now, finally, I have a closet to hold my clothes. Pray that it stays up for me, won't you please?