September 10, 2009
I told him, when I started my maternity, leave I was going to clean. After a point, I just won't care anymore and it will go. If he helps me - then he can keep what he wants; if not, obviously, I will chuck his treasures and I don't want to hear anything about it...he didn't help.

Course my prego ass couldn't handle his shit and 3 flights of stairs. Thank God his mother likes me. Er...mayhaps just likes throwing his crap out.

I pulled it out of the closet...
Then we went through and sorted it.
She carried it down the stairs and out the door.
The goal was to get it to the dumpster before he got home.


I know he will be pissed later; but all the shit he has is not necessary. He will not use half the crap he has and the broken shit does not need to be repaired.

A walk-in closet means you can walk into it. It does not mean - you open the door and look for something stable to step on; so you can walk across the crap while holding on to buckling shelves...I love him but this is too much...especially, if we can't get a dresser to put clothes in. Course granted it wouldn't fit in the room anyways.
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