The Big Clean

It's springtime. Wisteria's in bloom, girls are showing some leg, aviators abound, it's official.

And when spring comes, it's time to clean out the closet.

Not my actual closet. No, my actual closet is still as messy as ever, cashmere turtlenecks battling it out with the tanktops and boots embracing the flipflops.

I mean the other closet. The closet with my old demons in it. You know the ones: paranoïa, fear of failure, ex-boyfriends. Mine's a rickety old IKEA version I've been dragging around for far too long.

Cleaning out the demon closet is a tricky four-step operation, not to be undertaken lightly or unprepared. Here's how it's done.

One, open the closet. This is when you get hit with a giant wave of nostalgia, followed by fear, followed by an overwhelming feeling of inadequacy, before you finally settle into full-blown depression.

Two, exorcise the demons. This one is tough and generally requires the assistance of very good friends, potent medication and one (or two, depending on strength of demon) jar of nutella. Expect tears and hysterical outburts, as well as a few panic-fuelled calls to your mother.

Three, reel from the pain of having lost those damn demons. Because, as much as they were ruining your life, you had gotten pretty used to having them around, and they were yours. It wasn't much, but at least it was something. And now what do you have? Just a big empty closet.

Four, give yourself a good old kick in the derrière. Finish that damn chapter 20 (done) and go have a cocktail (done). Because you're worth it. And because you have a whole year ahead of you before you have to go through all that again.

Phew.