So everyone knows that I’m on a week-long vacation (having sucessfully shouted it out from the rooftops, my blog and down the phone receiver to my less-lucky-and-long-suffering friends). But true to my OCD tendencies I fall back to old habits. Let’s see…
Saturday: I jumped up and down and also moped about having a UK visa stamped on my passport but absolutely no memories of the place (having not ventured out of my conference room at all). Opened my suitcase and started throwing things out in a bid to energize myself to unpack. Then I promptly fell asleep amid the ruins that used to be my bed and was dead to the world for 4 hours. Which of course meant I stayed awake all night, albeit having a long conversation, the kind you remember for a long time to come, as a milestone in a good friendship.
Sunday: Twenty phonecalls, a much-ahead planned meeting and a wake-up call later, I still managed to be late for a movie. But had hajaar fun anyway. And came home to rip open a DVD of Sex and the City Season 1. This by the way is my gift to myself, as a treat for being in London and missing it.
Monday: Yoga. Blogged. Blogged. Blogged. SATC. Yakked. Yakked. Yakked. SATC. Did not sleep at all.
Tuesday: Slept half of the day and woke up feeling bloody guilty. So I turned out my cupboards. Also tried to clean up the mess on bed after Saturday’s aborted unpacking attempt.
And now I discover that I have:
- Too many clothes
- A stash of shawls that never get used
- A micro-mini skirt that I have neither a matching pair of shorts for, nor the guts to wear by themselves
- Several skirts…more than trousers, actually (!) And I always thought I was a leggings-sort of gal.
- An office wardrobe that looks more like stuff you’d wear to a picnic, a movie, a party or bed.
- An office wardrobe with the mandatory grey, blue, white stuff..that just hasn’t been used in a long time.
- A summer wardrobe big enough that I don’t need to do any shopping.
- A pink umbrella (!)
- Stockings, a beret, a hat, a sash and several scarves I don’t remember buying but have seen in the past three spring-cleaning attempts.
- A pajama set I’ve never used, my college tee-shirt, a slinky lingerie set I remember buying and forgetting about.
- A tube of sunscreen gel…imagine that!
- Two extra tubes of each of my favorite liquid lipcolour shades. In original packing, including the plastic seal around.
- A bowl full of lipsticks of different brands in varying shades of Dusty Rose, Warm Toast, Cinnamon Kiss (translation for men: pinkish-brown)
- One shelf full of bags, none really appropriate for whatever situation I’m going to find myself in..but all have-to-haves!
Hmph. And to think I pride myself on being neat, organised and efficient with resources. I never thought I’d be a shop-a-holic. Now my cupboards look so neat I don’t want to take any clothes out of them, for fear of messing up the careful arrangements.
On the other hand though, I have some strange habits. When I was a kid and received pocket money, I would tuck away a few coins, a note or two here and there…between shirts, inside a necklace case, behind a book. And then forget about it. It was such a thrill discovering it years later. That’s something I haven’t gotten over. I’m still thrilled to discover a 10-rupee note in my pocket even if my wallet has twenty times that amount.
So likewise, spring-cleaning can be like a treasure hunt in much the same manner…discovering something that you knew about long ago and forgot after that. It’s also, however, heart-wrenching. I hate discarding things….just as you get used to things, they’ve worn out or something….*sob*. In fact, while I’m in the mood for confessions, I think I took up fabric painting as a way to hang onto my old clothes. I’d just paint on them and wear them again so my family couldn’t bug me to discard stuff from my bulging closets. All went well till a classmate hooted, “For gawdssakes buy new clothes!” Hmph, no one appreciates recycling unless as a fashion statement. With a heavy heart, I learnt to let go of my prized painted possessions as well.
Ah well, the odd things you discover about yourself. Continuing this thread (albeit on a cheerier note) I didn’t feel bad about relegating to the ‘to-discard’ pile this time. So while I’m in this mood, out go the too-tight blouse that P once gave me, the satin suit I wore on my 16th birthday and never have worn since then, the frayed jeans, the numerous chudidaars and dupattas long divorced from their kurtas and having waited long enough for a new partner.
The one thing that hasn’t made it to the discard pile in over 10 years is a tee-shirt with a picture of a sunflower right in the center and the words
He loves me!
He loves me not!
scrawled at the edges of each petal. It’s a ratty looking thing now but I used to consider it my lucky tee…….for some strange reason I always got asked out by a new guy (often the latest crush) each time I wore it. It isn’t even THAT spectacular looking! But well, some things just are lucky I suppose…..and I’m allowed my bit of silly superstition. I wonder if I need it now though, since my problem seems to be too many men rather than not enough…but well, I’ll hang onto it for a dry spell anyway.
And now I must go and rearrange my shoe cupboard and catalogue my bookshelf. For some reason I’m having more fun on this vacation than I imagine I’d have had touring France (as originally planned). Okay, so I’m a confirmed boring girl-geek.