A Rebel is Resisting Change (of her Closet)

Remember my very first post about purging my closet?

Wait, before I continue, if you are a rebel like me and didn’t start from the beginning like I told you to on my home page, then you best click here and catch up. This post kicks off Skeletons Part 2: What the Fuck (Has) Happened. Oh, sorry, some of you may not have been to the Home page before. My bad. Know what, no, read this post and then decide if you want to start from the very beginning.

Anyway, remember how I was all proud of myself for the progress that I had made in there and my shoes – those damaged, used, discarded, shoes? And how I still had some things to sort and sift through? Wellllllllllll…

It didn’t last. Along came the holidays and with that came presents. Lots and lots of presents. I barely had any floor space and had to move things around to access my shit. It was really annoying but I told myself that once Christmas was over, I can resume the “transformation” if you will.

Yeah right.

My closet was slowly returning to the chaotic disaster that it once was and next thing I know I’m promising myself “you’re doing it this weekend” or “you’re doing it on your days off while A2 naps” blah blah blah blah, never following through. Because it hadn’t gotten THAT bad yet. It wasn’t like it was before so I didn’t have a sense of urgency to do something about it.

See, I’m one of THOSE people. The one who will wait until an illness or pain is bad enough to go see her doctor. The one who will not wash her car until it is beyond filthy before getting it washed or who (sometimes) waits until her car is basically running on fumes, barely making it to the gas station to fill up.  I could go on but you get the gist. I procrastinate on pretty much EV-ER-Y-THING.  Things have to be bad enough or the pressure has to be ON to light a fire under my stubborn, lazy ass.

My closet cleaning sabbatical was short-lived though. After things settled down, I went back to work on the transformation. I must say, I am quite pleased with my progress. And no, this isn’t what it looks like now. I haven’t gotten there yet.

Get it? We’re talking about what happened, not what it looks like now. Don’t get it? It’s okay. Click here and then you will.

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So that, my friends, is also the story of my life when it comes to WTF happened that sent me on this long AF path to recovery (past) and what’s been happening along the way (past/present.)

And I’m going to tell you allllllll about it.

Buckle up bitches, you are in for quite a treat.

#morewillberevealed

P.S. I’m shocked I didn’t use a single ” * ” in this post. However, I did notice that I forgot to include the asterisk notes from the previous post, My Rebellion and Recovery Rekindled, on the *** page.  It explains some stuff that you may or may not care to even know. If you are one of those that clicks on the ***….go ahead, take a gander, they’re there now.

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