HNT: Closet Case

I have another confession to make... No, it's not that kind of closet confession. Been there, done that.

This one is a real secret that I have kept behind closed doors. Well, one closed door in particular...
My closet. The truth is: I have lived in my new home for well over two months now, and I have yet to unpack my clothes. I know, the horror. My nice walk-in closet has been defiled by full suitcases, backpacks, and a huge black garbage bag full of shoes. Seriously. A trash bag 'o shoes.

There are many things that may have contributed to it getting this far... Maybe it's the fact that I can't fit into any of my clothes yet, or perhaps it's that summer clothes bum me out when it's cold, or maybe it is the fact that my closet is the one space in my home that is mine alone, and since things are going well in all the other areas of my life, I need to do something to self-sabotage... Oooor maybe I'm just tired, a.k.a. lazy.

But now, the plot thickens. Several nights ago, as I was readying myself to retire to the boudoir, I went to flip the closet's light switch to on, and there was a pop and then a flash, and suddenly everything went dark. I think the closet was trying to tell me something. My bulb had bust, and I was thrust into total darkness, too embarrassed by the condition of the space, and too intent on maintaining the privacy of that space, to tell the man. I know I could just change it myself, which would take all of about two minutes, but it just hasn't happened. So for three days now, I have been in secret darkness, not only living out of suitcases, but fumbling around trying to find clothes and socks to match in the dark.

In short, if the state of a person's closet directly correlates to the state of their life... I am in serious trouble.

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