MY WARDROBE IS overflowing. With no Spring Cleaning habit for tropical people like me, my short-sleeved and long-sleeved shirts hang next to each other, expanding year by year. My trousers are much too few in number, and have been relegated to the lower section. My short pants are now in the drawers, folded next to my dozens of T-shirts.
My socks and underpants share a shelf, some always favoured; some not. They share the same fate as the bottles of spices in the kitchen.
Meanwhile, my shoes, though not many, have been moved to the backroom to rid my apartment entrance of the unwelcoming sight they collectively make.
My books overflow as well. E-books never caught on as a reading habit.
