Clean Me

Every day I am going to do something -- no matter how small -- to improve my standard of living at home.

I was once involved with a guy who was really into ... um ... a particular kind of lingerie. And, because I especially enjoyed being with him when he was especially happy, I had a drawer of that lingerie.

Note the tense: "had."

For I opened the drawer disposed of all the lacy lovelies. I mean, I couldn't donate them to Goodwill, could I?

While I hope I'm through with the support hose, I won't know for sure until next month. And, since they cost about $30/pair, I don't want them to snag so I put them in the quilt-top lingerie box.

It was a true sitcom moment. Rhoda would tell Mary how this was the perfect metaphor for a life gone hopelessly awry: yesterday's silk thigh top stockings are now today's industrial-strength support hose.

I'm trying not to look at it that way, though. I'm trying to see it as simply freeing up most of another drawer and bringing me closer to a "Clean Me."