We're currently attempting to move from our apartment to our new house. I hate moving. I thought I really hated doing laundry, but I'd rather do laundry all day than clean and pack. I hate it with a passion!
My husband and I are hoarders (*see hoarder entry). We don't see junk and go "Hmm, what do I need with that?" Nay, we say, "Ooo, that's awesome, let's get it." (This lead to an attempted sword fight in the dining room this weekend)
I'm depressed. I was going through my closet; seriously haven't been in there since 04'. I pulled out old things like teddy bears from god knows who, old love letters, old pictures (of me when I used to be young without a care in the world). I was going through this "junk" when I found all my clothes from about 2000-2004. Not to brag, but I have some really cute stuff. Not that I'm ever going to fit into anything circa 05' down.
I pulled out a pair of shorts that were a size 8. Cripes, I don't even remember being a size 8. I'm so lame I tried it on and it only went up my mid-thigh, refusing to go further. I remember I used to wear those shorts when I attended U of A (long story for a rainy day). I also found a shirt I thought was sooo cute. (It turned out to be a crocheted top--so in essence I flashed everyone because all I wore underneath was a bra). I can just picture someone saying, "Hey, you're that girl that used to wear see through shirts with only a bra!" Funny...then I had no clue it was see through then.
:(
Let's see, I also found a pair of Spice Girl-esque shoes that were basically 5 inch platforms. (I have no clue how I managed to stroll to class with these without breaking my cankles) I found them before my husband could and promptly deposed of them-quickly and quietly, our secret. (I should have kept them to show my future spawn or sold them- they might be worth money now seeing they're rare gems in some circles).
I'm depressed I had to throw some items away, even though I didn't want to. The hoarder in me said, "Some day you'll fit into that. THEN where will this be when you need it?"
The voice in my head kept saying, "You can't fit 5 pounds of sugar in a 2 pound bag."
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