Dust Covered and Discouraged

I scrutinized each item thoroughly and placed it in the pile for its destiny.  

Keep.     Summer.     Trash.     Winter.     Donation.     Wishful.

Keep:  an easy choice.  The known five choice pieces of clothing that I really  like, currently wear and actually fit into.

Summer:  another easy choice.  If it didn't have sleeves or leg length below my calf, it was placed in this pile.

Trash:  an even easier choice.  The appropriate pile for eyed rips, tears and ... what IS that?

Donation:  a super easy choice and the biggest pile by far.  A huge heap of stuff that was surely bought on a whim or because the sale was too good to pass up.  

Wishful:  the hardest choice.  This is the choice that took me the longest to make, created the most angst and sent me reeling down memory lane with the fabric .  Transported back in time when I was THAT size (comfortably).  The feel of the item pushing my brain into THAT moment when I was wearing THIS dress and...oh, the memories.

Then, I shook myself to reality.  

Sadly, I acquiesced.  

There cannot be a Wishful pile.  That size surely won't be seen again by my much more antiqued, maternal, ready for winter body.

The Wishful pile had to be dismantled and the items tossed into one of the existing piles with the exception of the Keep pile.

With all of the expended effort behind me, I emerged dust covered and discouraged from my closet proclaiming...

I don't have anything to wear.