At least once a week my closet becomes my enemy.
As I open the door to the tiny, claustrophobic room and peer up at the rows of shirts, skirts, bags and shoes, a feeling of extreme indecision comes over me.
The panic continues as I try on pants, skirts and tops that just don't look right. I toss the rejects on the floor as I aimlessly grab for more hangers.
I have nothing to wear. Seriously. It might look like there are all kinds of options, but nothing will work. Everything is too tight, too loose, too short, too long, too wrinkly, too scratchy or too depressing to contemplate.
Where are the cute clothes? I know I bought some, and I have the bank account to prove it. Why is the closet hiding the carefully purchased outfits that make me look skinny, sexy and put together? And why do the pants that made me look thin yesterday make me look fat today?
I close the closet door, take a deep breath and open the door again. Still no cute clothes. There is only one solution. Shopping. Now I just have to find an outfit to wear to the mall.
