Yesterday I rather smugly told a friend that I don’t have a “junk drawer” to clean. (That’s because I only have one drawer in the kitchen and one in the bathroom.
Today I realized that I had junk caches. I stashed junk all around the Old Bat’s Cave much like squirrels stash nuts. So, today I found and cleaned several junk caches.
So why am I doing all of this “death cleaning”? Well, it actually feels good to get things in order. And, when you die, that’s the last chance you will ever have to make a good impression. Do I really want people to find my racy underdrawers or letters from lovers long gone? I think not. It would sully my reputation as a “sweet little old lady”. I need to dispose of those things. And I have.
When I came back from dinner, there was a fine rainbow waiting.