Moving day.

Two little words that represent so many emotions. Anticipation, fear, dread, excitement, just to name a few.

Since I was moving to a third floor apartment with no elevator, I of course would have movers. But did I really trust another person with my beloved wardrobe??

I was excited to have a full walk in closet to fill. And filling it would be no problem. I have ALOT of clothes. And shoes. And bags.

Visions of lost shoes and ripped clothing played over and over thru my mind. Handbags falling off the moving truck and being ran over. As irrational as my fears were, I just couldn’t risk it. I love my stuff. I’d move it myself.

Each day after work I’d take a load from the old place, drive thirty minutes and lug it up three flights of stairs.

I did this for a month. And yes I did utter the words “I have too many clothes and shoes” a few times. Don’t worry. I didn’t mean it. It was just a brief moment of insanity.

Little by little my closet came together. I found items I’d completely forgotten I owned. Some that have gone in and out of fashion a couple of times. And some I’d been looking for aimlessly.

My entire wardrobe is visible to me now. No more hiding and digging for outfits. My shoes have their own place of honor on the top shelf. Like a crown on a Queen.

I still need to do a little arranging but for the most part my slice of Heaven is complete.

I agree Carrie….I completely AGREE!