Here I am in Day 2 of my two week head and home declutter. I started with high aspirations for a major sort out. Sadly three things happened which have immediately caused me to scale back my expectations. Let’s not forget how pointless a plan is, especially in my life.
1) Maybe I’ll just have a lay down
The big declutter started the day after Mother’s Day. Because I was on leave and Monkey free the next day I got silly and drank a large gin and tonic and half a bottle of wine. I enjoyed every minute of it and as I drank plenty of water I just felt a bit merry rather than cross eyed. All very good on Sunday. By 9.30am on Monday my motivation to achieve great things was reduced to trying to work out if I could schedule in a small afternoon nanna nap. In fact, after moving a basket of washing upstairs, I did have a 20 minute lie down. Just to motivate me to do the next job.
After my lie down I finished the laundry jobs then ticked one of the big jobs off the list. We still have a pantry in our house. A big cupboard used for the recycling, big pans, torches, batteries and light bulbs, and more recently things that don’t really have a home. Mostly items used to hit each other with that have now been confiscated. This declutter job is essential as the big box of mixed Tupperware is in there. Most of my boxes are now missing lids because the box is so overcrowded the lids have dropped into the recycling bags never to be seen again. Lidless Tupperware is a real first world problem I know. The cause of many a frustrating pre work rummage and argument about “why is this cupboard full of so much s*^t!!!”
2) An imaginary swarm of wasps
That off the list I was feeling much better. There were a few pieces to add to the charity shop pile accumulating in the loft. I decided to go up there to assess the items and add a trip to the charity shop to my list of declutter jobs. After a few minutes of being up the ladder my loft adventure was suddenly cut short by the emergence of a wasp from behind the Christmas decorations box. Being taken by surprised I leapt back, nearly falling back down the loft hatch.
To say the least I made a hasty retreat and slammed the loft hatch behind me. I took a moment to compose myself a then spent 10 minutes googling “do I have a wasps nest in my loft?” Let’s be honest it was one wasp so without further evidence I was reluctant to call pest control just yet. Armed with a torch I tentatively reopened the loft hatch and dropped the ladder. I paused for a moment the advice of the internet at the forefront of my mind. Disturbing a nest can cause a swarm and wasps will sting repeatedly.
Void of suitable bee keepers overalls I just pulled my cardigan over my head. Slowly I mounted the ladder. Typically I was half way up the ladder when the lone wasp flew out into my face. This caused me to scream and slide back down the ladder slapstick style. Thankfully without injury.
3) another lie down to recover and rest the foot
To my shame I grabbed a magazine and set upon the wasp now trapped in the hall window. It was long dead before I stopped hitting it. “All gods creatures” sprung to mind the moment I stopped. So often I remind the monkeys not to mash bugs and respect all forms of life. However scary. I hung my head in shame. Needless to say that after a tentative peek in the loft with my torch, I was forced to go and lie down again. Just to compose myself.
My final issue is my foot. A short walk for my big gin and tonic on Sunday had left it sore and unhappy. I realised on Monday that my efforts to clear my house of junk would be limited in order to preserve my recovery to date. This coupled with the fact I may now have to run for my life from a swarm of angry wasps, should I venture in the loft again, has hugely effected my optimism at how much I will achieve in my two weeks off.
So where does this leave me? Well in many ways, better off. I realised yesterday that my day to day declutter recently has actually been quite successful and there is less to do than I originally thought. A lot of the remaining jobs can be done whilst resting and drinking tea. The bigger lifting and shifting jobs will have to wait for when I have help. I also realised that I need a rest. Not just because of the wine but because physically I am shattered. (I wonder if this is why I was sent a foot injury to slow me down.)
Writing over the last couple of days has really cleared my mind. This has sharpened the awareness of how tired I really am. In conclusion, I have prescribed myself a more moderate declutter, less running from angry wasps and more nanna naps. Hoorah to that.