I mentioned yesterday that I've been cleaning my room. However, the more proper word at this point would be excavating. I cleared the topsoil away, as usual, but this time, I braved the collected junk from last time I did major room renovations.
Last time I did something huge with my room was hmm, 6-7 years ago, roughly. Back then, my idea of 'good taste' in decorating involved cutting out pictures of twee baby animals with really bad (not groan bad, just not funny) puns and taping them to the walls. Of course, not overlapping all of my ballet posters. I had drawers full of junk, and any posters that weren't on the walls were shoved underneath my bed. However, since I decided to take out my desk and move the bed, I had to disturb this sediment sufficiently to get work done.
As a result, later on in the evening (or should I say early in the morning?) two large black trash bags bulging at the seams appeared outside my room. I finally got around to disposing of all that junk. To get an idea of why I call it junk, though, let me tell you of some of the items inside.
There was a tissue I colored with red markers to look like a bloody tissue - I've had that for years. There were boxes and boxes of plastic jewelry, and there were all sorts of odds and ends: miniature American Girl magazines, old, unused toothbrushes, and some crocheted dog sweaters, toy poodle sized.
And they're finally gone! It's amazing how great it is not to have the hoard of a 10-year-old packrat gathering dust in my room. Now, I've still got the huge collection of china dolls sitting atop my clothes closet, but I've gotten used to that: I no longer wake up at night thinking that one of them is moving and about to turn into a murderer on me. They can move around all they want now.
Oh, I nearly forgot. The other reason for celebration is that almost all the lights in my room work now! Puella "Fiat," inquit "lux!." Luxque erat.
Yes, I am unreasonably happy. But I'm not ashamed. If you've had to live with 'bloody' tissues for the past 6 years, you'd be glad to be rid of them too.
B, who must go dust off.