When the boyfriend left on Sunday after a lovely weekend together, I proceeded to spend hours sitting on my living room floor going through my photos, giggling at some and groaning over others (this was my 'Clean Sweep' project for January). I threw away oodles of stuff and now have two photo boxes full of pictures and another box full of cards and letters I want to keep. Whee!

Tuesday at work I cleaned my office, trashing all kinds of stuff, including binders of papers from 1996. I now have a whole shelf for my freebies/tchotchkes and a clean spot on my desk for my "you're the bee's knees" award from last year. Tuesday night I cleaned off my desk at home, got it all organized and filled up a box with stuff to get rid of.

I love it!

I'm feeling so accomplished and on top of things. Before the end of the month, I'm going to clean out & organize the closet in my second bedroom/office and my February project will be to clean out my clothes closet. I've still got clothes in there from 100 lbs ago. This weekend I going to borrow my friend's digital camera so I can take pictures of some stuff I want to sell on eBay, like a great black leather coat that I paid $300 for and wore all of one winter before I lost weight.

But the other night, I got to thinking about all the work there is to be done (cleaning stuff out of my house, getting it ready to sell, selling it on my own, moving to Columbus, getting his, soon to be our, house the way we want it, planning a wedding [no, no ring yet; but it's coming], etc.) and I got depressed just dwelling on the magnitude. It makes me want to elope.

Actually, I need to write an entry working out my feelings on all the wedding issues (where do we do it, who do we invite, who stands up for us, etc.). I think I'm too old for this now. Ten years ago? Sure, bring on the pomp and circumstance. But now? Eh. It just makes me feel tired.