Distractions or Decisions – Chesterfield Observer
I need 15 more days of rain! Maybe I could settle for 10 or 11 if I really concentrate. I have to stop keeping my old clothes in case they become fashionable or fit again or I decide to wear them instead of storing them to have an organized and easy to use closet. Honestly, some pieces date back a decade or more.
At least I didn’t keep my old flare pants I wore in the 70s. I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t fit now. And I would feel stupid too. Some of my old clothes have become gardening clothes, but not all clothes lend themselves to being efficient work clothes. They have to bend and stretch with me and not make me stop to tuck my shirt in again or pick up the pods from my trouser legs.
It’s a distraction from the real problem. I should have spent at least one of the rainy days making decisions. If I haven’t worn something in several years, I think there’s a good chance I won’t wear it anymore. The problem is that I like some of these things. I won’t wear them anymore. It’s not work that keeps me from finishing, it’s all these decisions.
Will I wear it again? Can I use the fabric in another way? Should I cut the pimples? Assuming I leave the garment intact, should I give it to Goodwill? The Salvation Army? A small non-profit organization? The last time I got a pile of clothes as a gift, they were left in bags in the hallway until my other half made them disappear. I guess he took them to the nearest place.
Speaking of adding to my wardrobe, I need shoes. My specifications only complicate the execution of the command. I went to a big shoe store the other day and found they had multiple categories of shoes – none included the shoes I needed. There are tennis shoes and variants, casual flats and low heels, dress shoes and boots, even in the summer. If I don’t want performance sneakers, the others don’t have arch support or a heel that I can walk in or an insole that hides the stony feeling under my feet.
And I want style and maybe color. I can’t wear flip flops or cute ballet flats with cardboard soles. I used to be able to wear them all day, but something happened between the age of 39 and now. I think it has to do with why bell bottoms wouldn’t fit me the way they used to.
Moving on – someone here put away my ironing board because it was blocking the way from my office to the screened porch, and we had company. I still have more than half to do, and then I have to find space in my closet. Just another incentive to get rid of the clutter in my closet. ¦