My closet is going to eat me like the sandworm from Beetlejuice.

I hate it. This morning, I wanted to cry, because my dresser is broken and I couldn't get the drawer open for unmentionables. The rack that MY clothes hang on is broken and fell off, AGAIN, and I got stabbed in the hip by a hanger, because some dickwad decided that 1.5' is enough room to maneuver in a 'walk-in closet.'

As these blogs seem to be an excellent way to fill people in on the goings-on in my life, as well as an outlet for the creative process, I'm going to use it for something else. From now on, I will be using my blog to share with my love the ideas that I have that I know he will hate.

Dear Mike, Babe, My Heart,

When I get my first paycheck next week, I am going to Ikea, buying the entire wooden closet organizer that Heather and I looked at a few weeks ago, and I am reorganizing our closet. I love you. You may not want to be around for that. Please leave the first aid kit close.

Love Jaime

ps. The living room is next.