Digging through old boxes of stuff, today. It seems that for decades my method of dealing with stuff has mostly been to put it in a box to be dealt with in some nebulous “later” time.
Recently I brought all the boxes down from the attic. I say recently, it was quite a while ago now. The dream was that I would search through them all, process the contents, and chuck vast quantities of it. The reality has been that I look at it suspiciously and occasionally rummage distractedly through one of the containers.
Back when I was at school, Gavin gave me a load of books. “These are good books – why are you throwing them out?” “I’ve read them so I’m getting rid of them.” I still have some of those books. I’ve read lots of them. But I still have them. Maybe I should have learned from Gavin. It’s never too late.
Sometimes it feels good to be ruthless about these things. I’ve filled a few bin bags. It doesn’t really look like I’ve done anything but I know I have…
Now I’m taking a break after a long shift with the phone on silent. I’m running the bath, having a glass of red wine and stretching my legs. It’ll be a while before the flat is clear, but every day like this is positive. But I’m working tomorrow so I’m not gonna let myself get sucked into a late night on it.
In terms of thoughts I’ve been all over the place. A little of my head on Tonga, thinking about seismic activity before we go to a volcano. But the odds are so low. We are more likely to fail the test we have to do to get on the plane. Neither of those things will happen. We will go on holiday. I can’t think of the last uncomplicated actual holiday I’ve had. I’ve been trying not to think about the cricket after England just rolled over to the Aussies and showed their bellies. And I’ve been sad about this announcement that the government is essentially hanging the BBC out to dry. And I’ve just had a lovely long day inside my own head and didn’t have a clue how quickly time was passing…
AlBarclay 