My daughter is gone for four days. I’m supposed to take advantage of this situation, right? But first thing I want to do is sleep. Then organize my closet. Then sort through those seven shoeboxes filled with pictures and put them in some sort of order. Yes, I said seven. For some reason, whenever I used to develop pictures of Emma Kelly (now I just let them pile up in iPhoto) I assumed everybody who knew of her would want a copy. So just to be on the safe side, I’d order 20. And guess where all 20 sit? In shoeboxes. Are grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, and random acquaintances really interested at this point in receiving pictures of EK diving into her first birthday cake? Or what about that first visit to the dentist? That WAS pretty cute…..

ek-bowSEE????? THIS is why I’m single. These are the types of things that consume my thoughts. I should be digging through my panty drawer trying to find something that reminds me to be sexy when I walk and begging all my divorced girlfriends to put on skirts that are way too short for us to be wearing at this age and join me for happy hour near the loading docks, but no………I’m more titillated by thoughts of personal organization.

Has anyone ever found true love at the Container Store?