My Jell-O Has Expired

There. I said it. And, dammit, I feel better coming out of the closet about my closets.

For years, I've let stuff amass in my home. Papers, clothes, and even food items. It's not something that's easy to discuss, because people will tell you, "Oh, yeah, my place is a mess, too," meaning that the laundry hamper is crowning, or the coffee table is cluttered.

I have a "protective" mass of junk around me. You'd be surprised. You can grow accustomed to anything. But once you start cleaning, it becomes archaeology. I found an opened pack of "smints," canned soups that I must have meant to eat while watching Charles and Di's wedding; BodySmarts, which I don't believe exist anymore-- they're chewable "snacks" like Starburst Fruit Chews, but with nutrients in them. They also have hydrogenated oils. Mmm.

I hear you saying, "Don't throw that crap out---Nooooooo!---start an expired food museum!" but tragically, some exhibits have to be expunged.

After getting rid of the stuff that's over a year out of date (does vinegar expire?) here's the frightening part: I have virtually no food in the house.

Well, off to the bedroom closet-- those unisex culottes never did catch on, did they.