Walking the Wall

I should have taken a picture because our closet was a perfect visual example of how opposite my husband and I are. His side of the closet is the picture of organization…dress pants, suit coats, dress shirts, nice jeans, nice shirts all along the top. The bottom rung had shorts, work shorts/pants, and work/junk t-shirts, and all excess hangers in a row (I can assure you, one of the things I do that most annoys my husband is to sleepily come in at night and pull one of his t-shirts off the hanger to sleep in…leaving the empty hanger mixed in with the hung clothes). My side of the closet (until today) looked exactly like my bedroom looked as a teenager, clothes I don’t remember the last time wearing hung all mishmashed together on the top bar, the bottom bar–had nothing hung on it because the floor of the closet was piled all the way up to the bar with…stuff. Clothes, all of it clothes, but clothes from the 90s I would never in a million years wear (even if I could fit in them), clothes I will never in a million years fit in again, clothes I could fit into again with just a bit of weight off, and summer clothes that it’s too cold to wear anymore. My side of the closet bothers my husband greatly if he has to look at it, it has for…probably years. I think it has remained this bad this long 50% because I’m lazy and 50% because I’m stubborn and don’t want to give into his wounded looks when I happen to leave my side of the doors open.

I stopped drinking Pepsi 17 days ago. I drank probably close to the equivelent of 6 cans of Pepsi a day. I haven’t had one in 17 days. It’s the only thing I can come up with as to why I cleaned my closet today…and the top of my fridge…and the phone ledge in the kitchen where no wood has shown for some time… It must be the Pepsi, although my husband is considering it might be aliens.