Order of business numero deux is clearing boxes — lot’s and lots of goddamn boxes. Exactly why I have so many is a bloody mystery. Actually, it’s not — they always say ‘keep the packaging’ so I do. I don’t have what came in it but I have the box.
Big ones, small ones, some as big as my head!
And not only boxes, crap too — lots and lots of crap and clothes and junk, most of it I haven’t seen in 7 years.
The problem in my flat is that it’s small and has no storage, so I just chuck things in the wardrobe, under the stairs, or in a box because I have plenty of those.
DVD players that don’t work, half filled notepads, random knick-knacks — tools galore! I could be a Mr Fix It if I could use them — all squirrelled away, intermingled with loose change. And I’m finding things. The belt I’ve missed, the electric toothbrush charger, a quarter full bottle of Boss Orange, a The Golden Girls boxset — I’ve even finally found the rainbow sunglasses I wanted for Pride in a wellington boot! Month late but found.
It’s taken hours but all the boxes are broken down and secured (except one that is holding assorted tip-stuff), the things I’m keeping are piled neatly all other the place, and there are a few things I just don’t know what to do with. There’s one more tangle of wires to untangle, there’s the books to go through, and I’m in need of a tip-tripper. Other than that, I’m done!
A clear home brings a clear mind
Or something like that.
With all that said, it is an awful lot colder in here and the hallway is narrower.