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The Hovel Strikes Back
Aug. 26th, 2012 05:09 pmThere was a bit of a row at one point last week, when I realised that my driving license, which is the only form of photo ID most pubs and supermarkets accept, wasn't in my wallet. I knew I'd had it at Pride (because usually I am IDed everywhere and once was not allowed into a place when I was eighteen in order to use the toilet because although I had three separate pieces of ID with my d.o.b on me I didn't at that time have a driving license or passport. It was honestly a close call that night with having to piss in the street if a kindly bouncer hadn't taken pity let me and my friends in the pub down the road despite it being after last orders (oh those were the days).
So, okay, no panic I couldn't remember which wallet I took to pride but I only use one of two when I go out (depending on pocket space) so even in the hovel it shouldn't be too hard.
But it was. An almighty and pointless row about me moving things later the wallet, with ID, turned up underneath a pile of papers, in a shoebox, underneath a table where it had evidently been pushed off by the weight of the random clutter that had since accumulated on the table.
Today I was all: You and Me Hovel. Back on track. Now the trick is to start small. Like, sock drawer small. So that's what I did. Socks, underwear, the lot of it- I have lost weight so a lot of the undies are rather baggy so I was all "I will not be a miser about it, if it's stupidly big or uncomfortable or getting faded then it will GO", also came the usual collection of underwear bought as 'bargains' for me by family members which never were in my size in the first place. So that was good. Then demotivation hit again. There's just SO FUCKING MUCH, and worse- when I started to move some things to find out what was in this pile or that pile I found MORE carrier bags of Things which have crept in on me, and which I can't just dispose of or throw away because 1. I am not unobserved and 2. Things Come Back. No, really. I had this bag of clothes we went through, some of which admittedly weren't mine but despite belonging to my mother she has never worn because she doesn't like the fabric only for them to be removed from the bags to go, because yes they are a brand name. "Do you want to try them on again first? Or for me to put them on ebay?" "No. No. Let me think about what I want to do with them."- that was about two months ago now. They're in a pile, ont top of ...*stares at pile* I'm not actually sure what they're on top of. But anyway, they're about knee height over in front of my DVD/CD bookshelf. With tea towels on top.
Will It Never End?
Also I'm in a really irrational and ranty mood anyway because my Mum keeps LEAVING THE BACK DOOR OPEN, which is in direct line with my chair and my computer and I'm FREEZING. I keep repeatedly saying how cold it is, and SHE STILL KEEPS DOING IT. FFS. RARGH. RANT RANT RANT RANT RANT.
Okay. Going to try and go and do some sort of calming activity. Like going out for a walk I think.
So, okay, no panic I couldn't remember which wallet I took to pride but I only use one of two when I go out (depending on pocket space) so even in the hovel it shouldn't be too hard.
But it was. An almighty and pointless row about me moving things later the wallet, with ID, turned up underneath a pile of papers, in a shoebox, underneath a table where it had evidently been pushed off by the weight of the random clutter that had since accumulated on the table.
Today I was all: You and Me Hovel. Back on track. Now the trick is to start small. Like, sock drawer small. So that's what I did. Socks, underwear, the lot of it- I have lost weight so a lot of the undies are rather baggy so I was all "I will not be a miser about it, if it's stupidly big or uncomfortable or getting faded then it will GO", also came the usual collection of underwear bought as 'bargains' for me by family members which never were in my size in the first place. So that was good. Then demotivation hit again. There's just SO FUCKING MUCH, and worse- when I started to move some things to find out what was in this pile or that pile I found MORE carrier bags of Things which have crept in on me, and which I can't just dispose of or throw away because 1. I am not unobserved and 2. Things Come Back. No, really. I had this bag of clothes we went through, some of which admittedly weren't mine but despite belonging to my mother she has never worn because she doesn't like the fabric only for them to be removed from the bags to go, because yes they are a brand name. "Do you want to try them on again first? Or for me to put them on ebay?" "No. No. Let me think about what I want to do with them."- that was about two months ago now. They're in a pile, ont top of ...*stares at pile* I'm not actually sure what they're on top of. But anyway, they're about knee height over in front of my DVD/CD bookshelf. With tea towels on top.
Will It Never End?
Also I'm in a really irrational and ranty mood anyway because my Mum keeps LEAVING THE BACK DOOR OPEN, which is in direct line with my chair and my computer and I'm FREEZING. I keep repeatedly saying how cold it is, and SHE STILL KEEPS DOING IT. FFS. RARGH. RANT RANT RANT RANT RANT.
Okay. Going to try and go and do some sort of calming activity. Like going out for a walk I think.
