  My company received an award this morning and I was invited to attend the brunch. I had a couple really strong cups of hotel banquet coffee and came home wired and ready to clean. I've spent the last hour in my bedroom closets. It's been an interesting adventure. I'm certain there are items in the one closet I haven't touched since I moved in over five years ago. I decided I would get rid of the clothes that didn't fit or didn't have potential to fit anytime soon.
I was shocked to find a range of five sizes [i.e. : 0, 2, 4, 6 and 8][I can guantanee you there were no zeros!]. Oy. How did this happen?! [note to self: Girl Scout cookies]. Five sizes.
I've heard of people like this .... Since I am not about to tell you what the sizes were, let's use A, B and C as example of what fits now and what has potential. A being the smallest. I found several pairs of A pants that fit. Yet, a skirt by the same maker in a B size was zippable, but not wearable. I'd forgotten how I loved Ann Taylor when I was thinner.
Since I haven't ventured in an AT store in years, I was shocked to find probably two dozen items I haven't worn in ages (the size A pants for example). I now have a pile of clothes that are too small, too outdated or too dirty [wow, I miss my mouth a lot ~ at this size how can that be? ] to wear anymore. I am headed to the trashcan. I know some of you gasp at the thought of being so wasteful as to not make a donation to Goodwill or at my inability to be industrious enough to sell the wearable items. But sometimes I think some things are better dumped in the trashcan.
Especially when they are associated to another time, place or person that is best left behind. 
