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can't talk, cleaning - Diary of a Necromancer
Excuse me, I'm making perfect sense, you're just not keeping up
can't talk, cleaning
Day five of Operation Not Ending Up On A Hoarding Show, or, "wow, did we just get all of the hardware put onto the same shelf?" We took a trunkload to $SPECIALTY_RECYCLING yesterday (Tuesday morning being their only open hours we can get there during), and the $CHARITY pile has reached "= volume of car" status so we'll need to make a run there over the weekend. Some progress is beginning to be visible, although unfortunately for the "studio" a lot of it's been in my bedroom/office. (It took about half an hour to swap out the lightbulbs with Mum's and... it's kind of a good thing that I started cleaning in here before the illumination was back up to full-strength...)

We've gotten a lot of stuff out of here or assigned to be gotten out of here already, but I feel like almost all of it has been mine; last night I threatened to find a bell and ring it every time Mum says good money and now you want to just throw it away about something. I did manage to think of a way to repurpose the kitchen-cart-that-wasn't-really-suited-to-keep-the-hardware-on into a cleaning-supplies shelf for the bathroom that we'd sort of been thinking about needing (one thing for metro-type shelving, it's adaptable), but it's slow going with all the "still good" arguments. I'm just happy to have found that box of my juvenilia when she wasn't home to object to how much was going into the recycling bag... (I did save a few bits, which I might even post here someday, but overall, um, yeah, don't really need to drag around all of the Million Words Of Crap through my life. Also apparently I'm just not wired for writing Plot...)

The cats think we're moving.


4 responses | moved to respond?
fimbrethil From: fimbrethil Date: April 12th, 2012 12:42 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Right in the middle of this myself. Going room to room and CLEANING EVERYTHING. I've emptied closets, rearranged book cases and I won't be happy until the whole house is clean. This is what nervous energy does to me.
whitecrow0 From: whitecrow0 Date: April 20th, 2012 06:45 pm (UTC) (permalink this entry)
I need to clear my clutter. I need to clear my clutter. I need to clear my clutter. I have SO MUCH stuff. Spelling tests and math worksheets from the boys' elementary days. Far too many old clothes. Years of Christmas cards. Things that I inherited when my grandmother died and are still in boxes even though I insist I want and love them...
I just never feel as though I have the time and energy. But it makes my house more a stressy place than an enjoyable home. :/
robling_t From: robling_t Date: April 20th, 2012 10:41 pm (UTC) (permalink this entry)
Honestly, this has been... well, most of my lifetime coming; thinking back I can't actually come up with a time in my life when one space in our series of flats wasn't a room that everything got shoved into to be dealt with later. But later has apparently finally come... Maybe because we've been in the same owner-occupied place for long enough now that I've managed to convince myself that it might be a permanent state of affairs, Idunno.
whitecrow0 From: whitecrow0 Date: April 24th, 2012 01:59 am (UTC) (permalink this entry)
I wasn't a pack-rat when I was a teenager. I grew up an army brat and I preferred to travel light. Then I kept trying to get rid of the old me and reinvent myself...
I tossed several things that I really wish I had now, and so now I can't seem to get rid of anything. Detritus has been piling up since the birth of my Eldest, and I've never had the "time" or the "energy" to deal with it, though I've wanted to for years now. :/
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