And, off the back of my most amazing (and, per hour, expensive) holiday ever, I woke up this morning… in a mood of black despair. Ah. See, I was looking forward very much to this clean break and new start thing, even though it leaves me destitute, and I was kinda planning to spend the next three days being fizzingly creative. Since that all hasn’t happened, however, my mood has nosedived along with my plans, torn a big furrow in the ground and – wait, that reminds me, I have a door to re-hang!
Which was slightly cheering, for some reason. Really, only slightly. Sigh. What’s that saying? “Before enlightenment, chop wood, carry water; after enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.” Work will not cure this mood, but at least it will get work done. Then, when I feel more… free, I’ll be freed up!
So I put a pot of coffee on and set to moving all the furniture, scrubbing all the edges of the carpets and putting everything I could lay my hands on through the washing machine. God, what a grim way to spend your last day of freedom!
On the other hand, it was hammering it down out there. I’m surprised the trees don’t resemble pancakes.
Come teatime, I went for a bracing walk in the rain to get cheese scones and some cheap pink fizz. Ah, this was not the jackbooting and hallelujahs I envisioned for the cheap pink fizz. Still! I have scrubbed three rooms to within an inch of my life, and there is now no room to move throughout the flat for wet laundry. Things Was Done!
I cannot believe I do this to myself.