I'm Out of Trash Bags

It started with a sale.

With plans for Saturday night, you would think I spent my day Saturday catching up on all those things I ignored through a very hectic work week.

Oh hell no.

All it took was a friend telling me about the vendor going out of business sale.  The 75% off sale.  Starting that very day.  The same vendor I had gone to a month before during their fall event, and passed by so many pretty things because I thought their prices were too high.  Not just pretty things, but things that called my name.  That said, only you, the freak who puts a chandelier in a tree will buy me.  Buy me.  Take me home.  Love me.  Adore me.

75% off.

So, before the sun had even peeked above the horizon, I drove through the predawn light to meet up with her so we could be at the doors at opening time.  On a Saturday morning.  When I'm normally rejoicing in no alarm clock, leisurely sipping coffee, and in no hurry to get out of unacceptable lounge wear.

We arrived half an hour early, and joined the other early riser insane people waiting at the doors.

And it was GLORIOUS. 

They were playing Christmas music, and my first thought while waiting outside was "give me a break, I get enough of this crap at work with Christmas items selling since July".  But then something magical happened.  Maybe it was the camaraderie of waiting in the chilly sunrise with other equally sale obsessed women.  Maybe it was not being in the confines of the store constantly rearranging our own Christmas goods for sale.  Whatever it was, I suddenly FELT IT.  That magical little thrill that the season of snow, icicles, and peppermint candles was approaching.  The knowledge that after all the leaves are raked up, and as more layers are required each time I go outside, I would soon be decorating my house in a winter wonderland.  It could have been the antique sleds lined up against the fence, it could have been the glimpse of the flocked tree seen through the window, but I suddenly felt jolly and had the urge to let out a shrieking HO HO HO. 

And I HO HO HO'd throughout the various buildings, picking up all the little snowbirds, frosted sprays of pine needles, and then the holy grail of Christmas cheer greeted me with a quiet little "hello, I've been waiting for you".   The small tree, covered in antique ornaments.  Antique ornaments that I can never find anywhere.  Antique ornaments no one else seemed to care about.    I gently plucked them off the branches, welcoming them to my home.

And it wasn't just Christmas calling to me throughout their buildings.  Owls, birds, small cages and urns.  The gloriously gothic looking chandelier everyone had passed by.  Not knowing if this one would hang in a tree, from my arbor, or somewhere in my house, but knowing it had to be mine.

Of course, arriving home that afternoon, I just dropped the bags and goods, and knowing there was fun to be had later that night, took a nap instead of putting away a single thing.

So after a deliciously fun time last night, I woke up to a mess of bags and pretties just waiting to be put away.  Knowing that half those goods are Christmas items, and not being a total freak and putting them up before Halloween, I started searching through the house for an empty bin.  Surely there is one, since two months ago we moved a (then) teenage girl back to college.  Nope, no bins, but after looking in the closet of doom, I realized I must remove the doom factor if I want to fit one more bin of ANYTHING in it.

After a quick trip to the store for a bin, I started pulling things out of the closet.  And that is an understatement.  Though most of my Christmas decorations are in the loft of the garage, there are a few bins and random pieces of holiday cheer in the doom closet.  And then I realized there are also many, many other things I've ignored in there, which is why it's been labeled the closet of doom.  It's a virtual junk drawer but in a much larger space.

I had a moment of excitement when I saw the package on a top shelf, thinking a forgotten Christmas gift was waiting for me to rip it open and squeal in glee.  Nope, seat covers.  For the Escape I got rid of almost 8 months ago.

The power paw.  The heinous bitch power paw for the piece of shit vacuum cleaner.  I've been looking for that worthless thing for over a year.  Not that it works, but it attaches to the piece of shit, and every time I pull it out to vacuum, I'm wondering where the stupid power paw attachment went.

A bin of Halloween decorations.  Yup, forgot about those.  I'm decorated for fall, but somehow, in the midst of late night ramblings and post it notes on calendars, I had forgotten that I actually own Halloween decorations.

So now there is a huge mess all over my floor.  The closet is cleared out, but I have a huge pile of crap that needs to be thrown out, and piles everywhere that need to be sorted and put away.  And I'm out of trash bags, so this throwing away thing is going to be a pain in my ass.  Even my son, who is a teenage boy and immune to messes, keeps popping his head into the room and asking me what the hell happened in here.

So, before I tackle the piles of pretties, I have to tackle the bomb that went off at the closet door.  And I really REALLY want to play with the pretties.  My St. Francis (yes, this atheist bought a St. Francis statue, because it reminds me of my grandmother), is begging for a home somewhere in my house.  I'm not sure where yet, but it will probably involve moving things around, and making more messes.

Because apparently, messes is the theme of the day.