It might be that I'm tearing my hair out trying to figure out what to wear to Kay's graduation banquet which is in less than two weeks and a weeee bit of panic is starting to set in.
Or it might be that phone call last night. What is it about the words: "Hello, this is the Diabetes Association. We'll have a truck in your area on the 15th. Are there any clothes or small household items that you'd like to donate?" that turns a sane mother of three into a whirling dervish of closet and cupboard purging? The thought that I myself don't have to load the stuff into a car and deliver it anywhere, that I can just park in on my front stoop with a big "D" on it on a certain date and someone will cart it away that puts all else onto a back burner until I've filled enough boxes and bags to satisfy my "I've accomplished something" sensibilities.
The only problem with all this purging sadly, is that I'm left with a pretty empty closet. Hmmm, maybe I'll have to get my friend, Linda, to put in a good word for me with her BFF Clinton who has actually emailed her. Maybe I can ride on her coattails to fashion freedom. But with my luck coattails are out of style and she's thrown hers out long ago.