This weekend we did something astoundingly, mind-numbingly cool. And I’m not talking about the futebol!. I’m talking about going into the closet.
See, and you Manhattanites who live in shoeboxes should look away right about now, we have an office. In that office, we have a closet. For going on two years, it’s been jokingly referred to as the Closet From Hell (staircase of SATAN! bonus points for correctly identifying the reference). It’s technically our linen closet, but it’s our linen closet in the sense that it EATS LINEN AND DOESN’T SPIT IT OUT. In the past few months, when we really gave up any hope of it ever reverting to a functioning closet, we just started piling stuff on the floor and couch rather than open the door and get eaten by the vacuum cleaner. Yes, it was that bad.
But no more! Thanks to some key help and encouragement (and power tools) from our trusted Rhode Island Based Advice Team (that’d be my parents), we spent Saturday putting the wrongs to right, a crusade against disorganization that I can delightfully announce Mission Accomplished and without any crotch-grabbing outerwear or ironic overtones. What was once a jammed, terrifying mess of stuff has now been pared down to the essentials and filed in wire drawers, small stackable boxes, and wall fixtures. It’s like heaven in there. There’s even a lightbulb. I CAN FIT INSIDE. I mean, should I want to stand in my own closet and inhale the dryer-sheet-scented perfection of it all.
Did I mention there are LABELS? There are. It’s glorious. It’s also step #1 of #2 in the reorganization of our entire office to fit two gorgeous desks my mother is building out of our current single desk. Can’t be done, you say? You’ve clearly never met my mother, who’s like Martha Stewart but with a better accent and no jail time. Plus, tools.
Our new office, in turn, is a big part of all the Unspoken Interestingness that’s going on in my life, starting in early July, when I will be less committed to a desk owned by other people and more committed to a desk owned by myself, doing what I admittedly do best (which isn’t knitting, btw). The desk and office reorganization is next week’s task and as soon as I sit down at it, with pen and laptop and file folders at my command, I will feel even better about the Big Changes and my ability to face them with organized verve and drive.
So, you see, it’s all connected. The closet to the desk to the giant open window that’s been left as a present for me when I looked away from a door that had closed. It’s all a big metaphor for starting down a new career path and feeling like I don’t have to hide under the covers. Mostly because the covers are neatly stored in a well-labeled wire basket so I can’t hide under them ANYWAY.
after
[click on the heavenly baskets to go through to the full before-and-after set, but be warned: I was too zealous on Friday morning to remember to take a picture of the monstrosity intact. Use your imaginations.]