Doing Nothing is Sometimes the Hardest Thing

Sunday 20th December:
Day Seventeen.

A very relaxing day - unheard of! We spent most of the day in bed, sleeping, chatting, and watching stuff on BBC iPlayer, YouTube and the like. A success! A relaxing day, don't you see, is a huge achievement for the stressed-out, het-up workaholic.

Then, just as I thought there would be nothing to tell you (again!), I found the missing Bukowski DVD. It's been troubling me for over a week now. Can you guess where it was? Behind the bloody bed, that's where, between the mattress and the wall. I'm sure I'd looked there...

Now it's ready to go back to the library, taking all the stress and guilt with it. :)

Hey, doing nothing is GOOD: I even found this blog about it! It recommends starting small: "Doing nothing, in the true sense of the word, can be overwhelming if you attempt to do too much nothing at once. Do small nothings at first." I like that!

Christmas Cards are GO!

Day Thirteen.

I've got to admit that I've jumped into this whole "Do Specific De-cluttering Task; Blog About It" thing rather naively, without any initial concept of the amount of time and effort required on a daily basis by what is, in reality, two tasks. I can only drop my jaw and gape in wonder at the wonderful work done by two of my favourite bloggers - Beth and Tammy - each of whom has a small child to deal with, as well as all the usual household tasks, as well as the daily blog and One Hundred Day Project. Argh! Much respect to you guys.

My boyfriend has started complaining that he never gets to spend any time with me. True, I am a workaholic, but this blog thing takes the biscuit, I reckon. I'm loving it though! Apart from the anguish it causes.

So today, I killed two - no wait! - fed two birds with one grain. As the washing machine is broken, I've been going to my mum's house to do it, but only once it has amassed itself into a giant pile of offensive sights and smells. While I was waiting for each load to finish, I wrote my Christmas cards, which will assuage my Christmas-themed guilt no end. I don't normally do Christmas cards. Or at least, if I do, I don't do very many. Raised with a strong work ethic, I usually feel that I should make them all by hand, deliver them by hand, accompanied by a home-made mince pie or somesuch. Then I run out of time, and quickly write out about half a dozen shop-bought cards. It takes a long time! I am not happy to send a card which has a pre-printed message, which is preceded by 'To Bob' and followed by 'From Joe' - what's the point in that?! So I like to write a little in each card, hardly a catch up, but something personal at least.


Here is my stash of ready cards - all that is needed is Phil's signature, and the envelopes have yet to be addressed. Getting there, getting there...

My Teenage Years in Cassette Format

Day Four.

What IS my problem?! I'm 32 years old and I'm still lumbering around with this weighty, archaic albatross around my neck. I've taken this boxful of cassette tapes from house to house, where they have taken up space, gathered dust, and most importantly of all, exuded GUILT. But how can I get rid of these mini musical dinosaurs? They represent my teenage years, my musical journey, my youth itself... I can't possibly throw all that IMPORTANT history away! Just look at it - the ugly truth:



Aw, there's a kitty - only 42p... Oh, for goodness' sake, grow up!!! When was the last time I owned a functioning tape player? Too long ago to recall. You can't count the one in the car, it makes every single tape sound like the singer has a mouth full of buttons, every instrument is heavily distorted, and sometimes the player just decides to chew the whole thing up, buttons and all. OK, the last time my tape player worked properly was when I was at college. That's ten years ago. (By the way, I bought this particularly lovely ghetto blaster when I was about 12 years old, and it's still very much in use, though the radio is the only part that works now.)

Now that I have a laptop, I barely even listen to CDs - I import them, yes, but from then on in it's all about iTunes. And a couple of weeks ago I "discovered" Spotify, so now almost everything I should wish to listen to is a short search and a click away! You don't even need an invite, just click this link. So there really are no more excuses for me, I am going to be ruthless.


All of the REAL albums (actual ones, purchased from a shop) seem to be in abundance on Spotify. So they have been bagged for the local charity shop (the Dog Shop). Most of the tapes people have copied me are also available on Spotify. They can go in the bin. I'm not sure if they can be recycled or not.

There are some suspicious-looking tapes, which I would like to listen to - these might include home-recordings of some of my early songs. I'm realising that I'm really not very ruthless at all, I'm still hanging on to the unmarked ones in case they have ME on them, oh, am I that much of a narcissist?! No, I'm thinking I might be able to recycle some song ideas... Am I completely irrational? I don't know.

I'm writing a blog, aren't I? That says something, ha ha.
Day 4 mission pretty much completed.