This was the year I was determined to get organized.
I have become obsessed recently with a blood curdling thought. Since I live alone, and if I should check out of this life unexpectedly, people would come snooping around my house. There would be no one but me to assign blame for the sad state of my closets, drawers and cabinets. They are filled to overflowing with gazinka pins and thing-a-ma-duchis that are doing no one any good and they’re causing me to break out in a rash every time I resolve to address the mess.
Incidentally, a gazinka pin is my name for anything hanging around that has outlived its usefulness – be it my prom dress from 1969 which I’ll only wear again in my dreams, or the box in my laundry room that Continue reading