This is one of the posts where I ramble about random stuff..

The clock is ticking, and I only have two precious weeks before my vacation is over and I go back for my final year of school. I decided to make the most out of what time I had left, and guess what I decide to do? Clean my room. Yup, that's the most interesting thing I could come up with. My previously organized room looks like it has been burglarized, with ceiling high stacks of clothes and books. For the past five days I've been cleaning out every nook and cranny, going through storage boxes, winter clothes, dozens of once worn dresses, and yes the inevitable old diaries. I cringed as I read through some 10 year-old diary entries, was tempted to throw them away but held on to them because, well because I am a hoarder.

I also found a suitcase with, not one, not two, but, wait for it, eleven brand new skirts with tags on. I know I have a couple of more suitcases with shirts and pants, just in case shops run out of clothes you know! Did I mention that I was a hoarder?

My book shelf is officially out of space, but I don't have the heart to give away any of my books. I should sell them to a second hand store, or set them free, or donate them but I can't part with my books; I am a hoarder after all!

We can promise ourselves all we want that we wont turn into our parents, then in a totally mundane moment, like when you are slipping a mothball in your winter clothes, it slaps you in the face, "Oh my God, I'm turning into my mother!".