The right thing to do
I know it is. The right thing to do, I mean. But my heart cries blood-tears. I have been changing my wardrobe lately. Finally put away the heavier winter garments, taken out the summer ones. Folded, washed and aired everything that needed it, either for putting away or for taking out. A heavy task; I have way too many clothes. I have stood there a hundred times, with a wardrobe vomiting stuff all over me, and yet not known what to wear. I do a regular clean-up of my wardrobe every 6 months, I figure "if I haven't worn it once for the last 6 months, then out it goes". And out goes a lot of stuff - usually I just pack a few big black garbagebags and carry them down to the nearest do-good-clothes-container. Must be a lot of very-stylishly-dressed bums out there. But over the last few days I have slowly come to realize that there is no way (as in NO WAY) all of my sandals, slingbacks, flip-flops, dècolletes, mules, kittenheels, sabots, wedges, stilettos and summerboots ...