*purgery

The pursuit to purge my house of 365 unnecessary items has commuted into something akin to Pandora's box . . . I began opening doors and drawers and a plethora of possessions began to find their way back into the world.

Two "mother of the bride" outfits from 2008. Why? Because the first one was hideous - great catalog appeal but not so much ACTUAL appeal. However, I was afraid I wouldn't find another one, and I figured hideous suit was better than birthday suit, and by the time I did find one I could live with, I'd had the hideous one for 10 weeks and it had since gone on sale and I felt bad about returning it.

So I didn't.

Three pairs of size 8 black shoes, (yes, children, one of them is the "stinky" pair) because I pretty much have only worn black shoes for the last six years, but once I bought my amazingly comfortable $69 pair of black leather Clarks last fall, the only other shoes I have a need for now are the red leather thigh-high boots in the back of my closet the amazingly comfortable $69 pair of BROWN leather Clarks.

One bed tray, you know, for breakfast in bed and such. I'm parting with it . . . WHY? Oh yeah, because I have never once in my entire life had breakfast in bed. Maybe someday when I have a reason to spend an entire day in bed, I will eat my strawberry pop-tart there. Maybe. Someday. But for now the bed tray goes bye-bye.

Thirty sweaters. Mostly mine because, for heaven's sake, the men in my life wouldn't be caught dead wearing season-appropriate clothing. Much less anything that's not blue, brown or green.
A puzzle, a basket, a soap dispenser, three black & white ceramic balls that look gray from 5 feet away.

A large vase that matches absolutely nothing in my house.

An erector set from Kevin's younger years.

A sheet set from Kacey's younger years.

Four useless Italian soda glasses from The Old Spaghetti Factory.

Eleven nearly-full nail polishes - all in some shade of mauve because I am the most boring human being alive. Or rather, WAS the most boring human being alive. I currently have DEEP PURPLE toenails, so I've become a much more fascinating individual since the infamous, life-changing Christmas pedicure.

A dozen glass tiles I bought for the bathroom when my husband began remodeling it in 1995 . . . BEGAN being the operative word . . . "and that's all I got to say about that".

So far 120 items to Goodwill, one large box to the recycling bin, two sacks to the dump, and we are only 27 days into the year. According to the myth, when Pandora opened the forbidden box, all of the evils mankind had not previously known, escaped from the box. But, it is said, that at the very bottom of her box, she found HOPE.

At this point, I'm just hoping to find the closet floors.

*yes, I realize "perjury" is the correct spelling.