Sunday Confessional

[Image of closet belonging to a worse sinner than me. But how do they ever get a sweater out??]

*lacochran looks both ways and ducks into the confessional*

Forgive me, Internets, for I have organized.

I started color coding my closet when we moved into our current home, years ago.

*lacochran squirms*

Wait, there' s more.

Color coded within summer and winter divisions.

Um.

Summer and winter divisions within category of item.

So I'll have all the blue summer tops together, for example.

Everybody does this, right?

*blink*

Sometimes, when I'm rushing around and hanging clothes up, I'll just hang them on one end of my closet for expediency. The next time I go into the closet, it bothers me that they're not sorted properly. If I take the time to sort them a Himalayan-mountaintop-sanctuary-meditation-calm descends upon me.

I rationalize this behavior by telling myself that a sorted closet saves me time in the morning because I do not have to wonder where the green summer skirt got to in the bowels of my closet. But the reality is that my closet is not that big nor do I have an impressive amount of clothes.

So, that's not really the reason.

For what it's worth, I do not organize Hubby's closet. He can sort or not sort as he sees fit. Nor do I sort my mother's closet, though it might help.

Okayokayokay, I did sort my mother-in-law's closet but I asked her if I could do it first and afterwards she said she appreciated it.

Maybe she was humoring me.

Forgive me, Internets. *blush* I'd like to say it won't happen again but it will.

*lacochran thinks fleetingly about switching the rosary beads to a more pleasing order, wrings hands, and leaves confessional*