A Dirty Little Montage

(I’m so proud of this post, I can’t help it—I’m going early.)

 

Welcome to Pen’s Walk-In Closet of Sh*t (WICOS),

a.k.a. The Laundry Room

Enter at your own risk.

First you will see this shelf, which used to live in our kitchen. In spite of the chaotic facade, it’s actually quite organized. I mean it. Granted, there are some things I could *probably* weed out, but they are the type of things you finally get rid of and a week later you have a burning, vexing need for them. Like what if we got a puppy, or something? We have a box chock-full of tiny collars and matching leashes. (That stuff’s expensive to replace! Right?) Everything on this shelf is in its proper place, even it is superfluous. Some of the boxes are even labeled.

 

More organized chaos to your left. The white shelf contains all painting supplies. We have painted every room in the house since moving in, some of them twice. So there. Above that shelf is a pegboard wall that isn’t too horrible, as far as the clutter goes. The next shelf contains all of mine and K.Lo’s crafty-type stuff. Greeting cards, sewing supplies for wayward buttons, sidewalk chalk, things like that. Again, everything in its place, it just looks…busy. To the left of that, all my cleaning supplies and Whatnot—garden stuff, some cookie tins I use at Christmas time. And above that, way up high, hmmm. Those three amazon boxes contain something, and I believe they are organized within. But I’m not sure exactly what the something is. I suspect they are crafts that K.Lo and N.Lo will use someday, but are currently too young for.

Below the cleaning supplies, next to the crafty shelf, we have a problem.

 

A big problem. I blame J.Lo. This is his PILE OF SH*T within the CLOSET OF SH*T. I have nothing to do with this pile. Which is why it looks that way. Every now and again, he’ll go through and organize, but things don’t really go back where they belong, in between these alleged cleanings. And that blue crate contains many useful items, but good luck finding what you need without skewering your hand clean through with an errant Tool of Death. This table is a pit. One time I spilled gun cleaning fluid on the table, and J.Lo got all mad at me, saying, “Just don’t light any matches in there.” Well, a) I wouldn’t light any matches in The Closet of Sh*t, regardless, because it would very likely implode, and b) If the Pile of Sh*t were more orderly, I might have seen this so-called flammable gun cleaner to avoid spillage. I’m just saying.

 

Below The Pile of Sh*t Table, we have the recycling bins. J.Lo usually takes these up to the recycling place once a week. Just special for you, and according to Andi’s rules, I shot these pictures before a recycling trip—and after a two-week buildup. Totally looks like sh*t, doesn’t it.

 

 

 

 

Doubles (apparently) as a Toy Chest, though. Ew.

 

 

 

Continuing on our journey, you might ask what K.Lo is pointing at in that picture above. It’s this chair:

Which I secretly worry is going to clunk down on someone’s one of these days and knock the person unconscious, a la the lead pipe weapon in Clue. But even worse is this:

That’s a bike trainer. You attach it to the back wheel of your bike, so you can exercise in the house. Pretty cool, huh? I used to use it, once upon a time. It’s pretty loud and annoying, but it’s a decent workout. Someday, I might even use it again. In the meantime, it’s just hanging there, plotting with gravity to commit Murder One.

All right, we’re almost over by the washer and dryer, the *true* function of the WICOS. I might as well show you the potty/potty seat I keep meaning to put up in the attic, but haven’t gotten around to yet. I could at least put it someplace less stupid in the meantime.

But see how organized I keep my wrapping paper? (Behind the trash can. Which is kind of in the way, but whatever. It doesn’t fit anywhere else.)

 

 

Oh look, there’s the washer and dryer! See the Charlie’s Soap on top of it? Haven’t put that away where I’d like to yet, because that space is occupied:

 

 

 

 

 

Again, somewhat organized but FULL.

 

 

 

 

And then here we have the Deep Dark Corner, filled (in a semi-organized way) with mailing supplies—boxes and other packing materials I’ll reuse whenever.

 

 

Here is what causes me the most pain: This Walk-In Closet of Shit doesn’t actually afford one room (at the moment) to walk. That ExerSaucer and the pile o’ crap on top of it is going off to goodwill or similar. N.Lo’s floaty for the pool, don’t know where to put that, maybe in the shed? Although I’ve been indefinitely banned by J.Lo from putting anything else in the shed. And then there’s just extra dog food, a case of beer, a laundry hamper… Any time I go into the WICOS, I have to shuffle around 50 items in order to reach the item I want—sometimes. If the room’s cleared out like it should be, then no chess match required.

Basically, the WICOS would not be such a WICOS if I weren’t so darn lazy.

To wrap up our tour, I should also mention that I have few dirty secrets within the dirty secret. One is this fancy arrangement over the washer and dryer:

All my holiday decor lives in there. It’s quite nice, actually, to have the storage space, and it was a big selling point when we bought this house. It’s more accessible than the attic, and it doesn’t get blazing hot so as to cook all the contents. I’m not revealing what it looks like in there, however. You might not understand.

That is all I shall reveal at this time. I will have you know that the recyclables were taken away a few days after these photos were taken, and I’m *this* close to loading up the car with the to-be-donated items and maybe even dropping them off in a timely fashion, instead of leaving them in my car for a month. Which means that I might actually be able to walk in the Walk-In Closet of Sh*t. For a few days, until something else finds a home there.

Also note that future plans for the Lo. Company include a complete overhaul/renovation of what is supposed to be the Laundry Room. It may look like one, someday.

This concludes our tour of the WICOS. Say good-bye now to the depraved youth who suffer in its dark shadow.