Semiannual clearance event

I am a minimalist through and through. Inside and out. Top to bottom.

How do I know? Because even the inside of my tiny munchkin body refuses to store excess junk.

Now, I pinky promise not to get verbally icky, so read on.

Every spring and fall my body invites me to participate in a joyous seasonal cleaning known as a "liver/gallbladder cleanse."

See? That's as icky as icky the verbiage it will get. Keep reading.

How does my body encourage me to partake in such an unpleasant undertaking?

With threats.

It starts out as an increased appetite for junk food. I'm talkin' daily trips to Mast General for gummi raspberries or Sugar Mama's for a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. These cravings are followed by early morning wake-up calls in which my eyes mysteriously open for no apparent reason at 4 AM. The resulting lethargy equals a decreased desire to exercise, the volume on my seasonal allergies being turned up to eleven, and a stitch on my right side occurring about an hour after I eat.

Left alone, the stitch turns into constant ache best described as the constant gnawing of a rodent of unusual size. The only relief to be found for the pain is to stop eating.

Or, to start cleansing.

Now, let me clarify. A cleanse is not for the faint of heart, not for fun, and not to be done to win a bet.

It is done as an act of desperation.

What do I dislike more than cleansing? Let's see...um...nothing.

The list of things I would rather do than a cleanse are countless, including having my wisdom teeth put back in, calling 100 people I don't know to ask them for money, and seeing Carmen live in concert.

Among other things, the cleanse involves drinking a glass of Epsom Salt water twice before bedtime and twice upon waking. The taste, which can best be compared to downing a rust smoothie, is so overwhelmingly disgusting that my teeth literally chatter after I drink it. In between iron oxide cocktails II and III comes the chugging of a cup of olive oil and lemon juice. This citrus marinade will wake you up at 1 AM wishing that the chariot would sweetly swing low and come-ah for to carry you home.

The process of cleansing?: Painful, stressful, and messy. The results of cleansing? Relief, peace, and health.

Isn't this the picture of how so many of us are about getting organized? We are not willing to endure 24-hours of cleansing to reap months or years of organizational health.

So, stop procrastinating! Pick a date, chug the rust and the marinade like a champ, and let the cleansing begin! Do it now, before the gummi raspberries begin their wily wooing.