First lesson of 2007: Don’t buy hangers from the dollar store.

Two months ago, I moved into a new apartment that’s not only located down the street from the Scrubs set, but also came equipped with my first ever walk-in closet. I figured I should actually make use of this amenity, so I bought some new clothes, ironed some old ones, and got straight to work on making it as Donna Martin-esque as possible. Then I realized I had no hangers. Then I realized that in the 23 years of my life, I’d never bought hangers before. So instead of doing my research, as my mom has often chastened me for in the past, I headed to the dollar store and bought $3 worth, which roughly translates into 21 hangers. I scurried home, pleased with my new domestic undertaking, and started hanging Saddam Hussein style (sorry, that reference was entirely inappropriate, but I just couldn't backspace it). A few hours later, I decided to marvel at my work - only to find that while all of the hangers were still well, hanging, my clothes were not. They were all over the fucking floor of my closet! I hung them back up again, only to find them on the floor again shortly thereafter. See mom, even when I try to be neat, the forces rise against me. Dollar Store: 1, Colleen: 0.