This is a case of life imitating fiction. She already has what amounts to a walk-in closet in the basement! A good sixth of the basement consists of a "room" albeit without a door, containing shelves, "elfa" drawers and hanging racks. Her clothes took up about 70% of this space. She also controlled 70% of the space in the upstairs bedroom. What she did was to expel me from the upstairs bedroom so that more of her stuff from the basement could join her stuff upstairs. But here's the kicker. She never wears 80% of this stuff. So I can't have a pair of underwear upstairs because she has to have some crapppy skirt that she hasn't worn in 10 years nearby.
What pisssed her off was that I had the audacity to suggest that she could go through her admittedly small closet upstairs and organize it, throwing out what she hasn't worn in 10 years. You'd think I had suggested we relocate to a commune in upstate Vermont.
