Like nesting, once or twice a year a primal urge hits me like the urge to pee hits when you see the ½ mile long line at a concert. It starts innocently enough, getting annoyed when you trip over a pair of snow boots. You push those aside, hang up your coat, and four others fall down off the hook because there are so many. You go to hang up one in the hall closet and along with coats, a vacuum and three scarves you find a new home for two Barbies and a doll bed. And then the urge takes over. The urge to purge.
Wish me luck… This could get ugly.