The Irishman called last night, just to say hi. He's smart, isn't he? Calling the day after he sees me?

Today I bought a new shower curtain (to replace the one I bought eight years/three apartments ago) and new towels (to replace the ones I received as wedding gifts in 1987, as well as the ones I bought in January and then inadvertently ruined with benzoyl peroxide). It's all part of my "out with old, in with the new" campaign.

Over the weekend I threw out a ten-year-old winter coat with a shredded lining and threadbare patches, about a third of the contents of my linen closet (which contains not linens but toiletries, cleaning products, and miscellaneous household stuff), and a paper grocery bag full of old magazines. I also sorted J's outgrown clothes and boxed them up so I can send them to my sister.

I have bags of stuff to take to the resale shop. I have stuff that I keep thinking I'll put in the storage locker in the basement, but then I wonder . . . if I'm putting it in the storage locker, why am I keeping it? If I'm not displaying it or using it, shouldn't I just get rid of it?

Now for some reason I'm feeling extraordinarily cranky. I'm going home to throw away some more stuff.

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