It’s suddenly just occurred to me that my apartment is one shopping trip away from being on an episode of Hoarders. I didn’t get around to spring cleaning this year or really anytime in the last 3 years to be honest. I don’t get rid of things that easily, luckily I have a lot of storage but suddenly all my closets seem to be overflowing. So I’m going to do some summer cleaning, not just in my closets but in my phone too – there’s going to be some major phone number deleting going on.
I figure if I’m going to make a clean start of everything I have to go big.
I hold onto clothes not because I still wear them, but because I’ve attached certain memories to them. And of course most of those memories are guy related.
There’s my amazing black lace and ballerina pink silk dress that I wore to a work Christmas party when I was 18. It was the first time I’d ever really drank (I decided to drink straight gin, I can’t even smell the stuff now without wanting to die) at the party I even had to wear a bracelet that said Underage on it. A handsome young police officer came over with a threat of arresting me for public intoxication; luckily one of my many skills seems to be talking myself out of trouble. I was able to turn the situation around and ended up getting his number instead. I never called him though, there’s something wrong with a guy that wants to go out with a girl that’s wearing a label that says underage.
Then there’s Jake’s favourite dress of mine – I haven’t worn it in at least a year and a half. It’s a cute little black, purple and cream coloured kimono style dress. I don’t even like it anymore but I like the memories that I had in it. It’s the same thing with a black shirt dress that I wore when I was dating Nick.
There’s a button up dress that whenever I wore it, I got myself into so much trouble – good trouble – but still trouble all the same.
Dress after dress, story after story, I’m ready to clean them out and make some room for some new memories. That also means cleaning out my phone.
If I only use the guy’s phone number at 2am after Jose Cuervo convinces me it’s a good idea – it’s gone. If I only have his number because we went on a bad date once at some point in the last year - it’s gone. If the guy has a tribal tattoo – he’s out of my phone. If the guy works as a bartender – good riddance.
This is good, I feel better already. I even have the first new number that I’m going to add into my phone - this really cute guy that I see at Starbucks at 8 in the morning all the time. I know you’re probably thinking “you don’t get up until noon, why would you be at Starbucks at 8am?” Well the simple answer is, from 8-9am is when all the cute business men go to get their coffee. It’s like when people get up early to go bird watching; I’ll get up to go see who’s getting coffee and observe what ones are wearing rings on their left hands. Sometimes I’ll sit there with a Forbes Magazine and the business section of the newspaper just for kicks.
Because we all know the early bird gets the worm.
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