A Closetoscopy

Seattle’s rainy Memorial Day weekend had its benefits.

I realize no one appreciated not being able to picnic, nor BBQ, nor lay in the sun to jump-start a summer tan.  I also realize some Seattleites have already closed this web page out of pure fury that I would tip my hat to a rainy holiday weekend in any way.

But the benefits of such a weekend are practical: I got so much done.

I ran tons of errands, had indoor drinks with girlfriends, read hundreds of pages of the book I’m reading, learned how to ride my bike in the rain, did household chores.  Plus I saw a movie (Sex and the City 2) without feeling guilty.  OK maybe I felt a little guilty that I was seeing SATC 2, but that’s an issue for another day.

But the best, most glorious task  that I completed this weekend:  I reorganized our storage unit.

Whew!  Back up!  I did not just blow your mind with something as insanely exciting as reorganization!  I’m just moments away from skydiving and lighting my hair on fire!  Somebody stop me!

If there is one hobby in my life that gives me goosebumps of pleasure, it is organization.  Look no further than here to further understand this compulsion.

And what better outlet for this organization fetish than a storage unit?  Ours is just down the hall from our condo, and is already heated, well-lit and painted a cheery yellow.  In fact Mike already bought sturdy five-level stand-alone shelves so that nothing is clustered on the floor.

But it still wasn’t good enough.  It still made me hyperventilate upon entry.  Allow me to show you why:

Do you see the cardboard boxes?  Do you see the chaos?  Do you have hives yet?

Maybe that’s just me.

Given the absence of BBQs and picnics, I had copious time to visit my favorite place on Earth:  The Container Store.

I am being completely honest when I say that if I were to win the lottery my first stop would not be Neiman Marcus, it would be this organizational mother-ship.  Of course I would be organizing our mansion in Madison Park, but we can discuss the details of my fantasy real estate another time.

I bought one large clear bin and two tall square bins, as well as two no-lid bins for things that are tall.  I also bought things for our bedroom closet, but posting a picture of our closet feels not unlike posting a picture of my delicates drawer.  Too personal.

Then I went to work.  This was 8:30PM Sunday night, and it took me three hours, so I’m not sure my neighbors were pleased.  But they never complained, so I never stopped.

I pulled almost everything out, sorted through it, and put it back in the new bins.  I also threw tons of things away.  In the end I eliminated six cardboard boxes.  YES.

Here is the result:

Paint and wallpaper supplies are gathered together and shelved on top due to their awkward shape.

Christmas items are stored together.

Bins are labeled.

My sister Sam asked me if I had a label-maker and I felt like someone asked me if I had a personal assistant.  Like, I didn’t know I could have one, but now that you’ve mentioned it I don’t think I can live without one.  And it was only after she mentioned this that I wanted to hide my homemade signs behind my back.

I can breathe again.  I can find things we need.  I don’t need the cello, but it’s important to Mike, so what can I do?

Maybe I could label it.