It’s a whine – a vent, the absurd nature of an ever hopeful fool.
For as long as I can remember I wrote – a way to get the stuff out – Stuff – I am always trying to deal with stuff.
It sits in my head. Stuff, stuff and more stuff. I walk into my home and there is so much stuff, stuff and more stuff.
Thursday twice a week – my maid comes – I write lists, I wake up early to declutter, to get rid of the potential ‘piles’ she makes when a couple of unrelated items are in the same vicinity.
I have tried anything and everything to assist – just so I don’t have to see stuff when I get home.
I pushed all my furniture away from the walls. The reasons were twofold:
1. To mark the places that needed to be dusted and 2. To shorten the workload by doing the first bit.
I arrived home to find my dusty furniture in the same place.
The hottest days of summer and not only is there stuff everywhere – the stuff is wet.
I wrote lists, in big and bold writing with bullet points. The list has since gone missing. Last time it was there, it was enthusiastically ticked – alongside the numerous items of clothing left to dry on my railing.
She is sweet – she is my friends favourite person. I am drowning in stuff.
I can foresee a week with the ironing board in the centre of my lounge, draped in clothing – clothing that didn’t dry on the hottest day of the year- clothing that I got up to wash at 6am.
There will be a large purple tub lying in the bath – a new item I need to add to the list – PUT IT AWAY *for the love of GOD!*
I will spend the weekend shifting clothing from hanger to cupboard, taking g strings out of my bra drawer and trying to find the partner of the one lonely grey sock that has been neatly folder and placed in the centre of my dressing room table – to highlight its plight perhaps?
Maybe my frustration will die down until the next time she comes around…I have started a new list already – I am trying not to put too much in CAPS, I am trying to calm down on the exclamation points – Heaven forbid I upset her…