This past Tuesday evening around 7:45pm, we received a sign.I believe in signs.Do you?This particular sign came in the form of a broken closet shelf, a busted hot water heater pipe, and a lot of wet items - including myself.

A little word to the wise: when there is water spewing from a pipe and the only thing protecting you from getting soaked is a layer of clothes hanging in front of said pipe, do not move the clothes to get a better look at the situation. Doing so will only result in a sudden, rude awakening of exactly how stupid that idea really is. Trust me.

So, yeah, the shelf in our bedroom closet decided to fall, therefore busting the incoming pipe on the top of our hot water heater. This means that everything inside our bedroom closet had to come out, and in a hurry. We got the kids involved and had an assembly line that went from the bedroom to the living room. Within a matter of minutes, everything was relocated.

I’ve always complained about how this house has absolutely no storage space. The kitchen cabinets are tiny and weren’t designed with practical usage in mind at all. The one small cupboard area of food storage is just a tiny fraction of a closet and doesn’t lend well to buying/storing bulk items. The bedroom closets are a joke, just barely providing the essential basic amount of room to hang a few items of clothing and maybe a few boxes here and there. There is so little storage space in this house that we resort to storing our vacuum cleaner in our son’s bedroom.

Take two adults and have them share one bedroom and one bedroom closet, and the above photo is proof of what you get as a result.

As I stood before the pile of closet clutter on that Tuesday evening (after the hot water heater was repaired and operational, thanks to the handiness of my husband), I made a declaration that went something like this: Let me say this loud and say it clear. All of that shit is not going back into that closet.

It was a sign. Someone or something was telling us that it was time to get rid of that stuff. We’ve been talking about cleaning out that closet for a long time now. The task always seemed too daunting, too overwhelming, too time consuming. There was always an excuse to put it off and hold out until another time. A better time. A more convenient time. But I strongly feel that life sometimes has other plans for us. Other paths for us to follow. And I do believe that sometimes they could be as simple as a closet cleaning.

As of right now, my living room looks exactly the same as the photo above. It’s now Saturday and we haven’t put a dent in the pile (except for the clothes - they are now hanging on a freshly installed, much sturdier rod/shelf). Life has been happening since Tuesday. We had a concert to see, a homeschooling event to attend, and some project loose ends to tie up before tackling something else.

It’s ok if it stays there another day. Or two. Or ten. I don’t care how long it sits there as long as we finally get around to sorting through it and getting rid of everything we can before taking one single thing back to the bedroom. Because like I said, all of that shit is not going back in that closet.

Stay tuned for another entry detailing the sorting process. It’s bound to be entertaining.