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mardi 11 novembre 2008


No, not THAT crisis (I'm ostrichly putting my head in the sand about that - the thought of our mortgage going up brings me out in hives so I prefer to not think about it AT. ALL. and just let D deal with any hassle), the crisis I'm talking about is much more insignificant (though only to you, perhaps).

I'm talking about my OH. MY. GOD. THIS. FLAT'S. A. MESS. crisis. Now, I know lots of people say this kind of thing when really their homes are pretty much Ideal Home material. But when I say "our flat's a mess", I REALLY mean it. The girls leave their stuff (paper, scissors, Barbie dolls, tea set bits, miscellaneous plastic things that MUST NOT BE THROWN OUT, pencils, pens, plastic bags... you get my drift) everywhere, I haven't "organised" my office paperwork properly since, oh, probably 1995 (really) and D is about the same. I start doing stuff, but then get caught up in OTHER stuff and never finish.

Add to that extra furniture (bought from friends who moved back to Madrid) sitting in the middle of the sitting room, boxes and boxes of stuff to go down to the cellar (assuming D ever makes enough space to take them there), boxes of furniture in kits that needs to be assembled, plastic bags of STUFF all over the floor, a dishwasher sitting in the middle of the kitchen because it won't fit in the space used for a dishwasher by the previous owners... I could go on, but fortunately for you I won't. I'm sure you get the picture.

I swear, I'm going insane! And I don't know where to start - which room? They're all as bad as each other (though different, too).

Really, this has reached epic, crisis proportions and I've now got to the stage where I'm praying for rain so that I don't have to go out, meaning I might get the chance to get started on something.

But it all feels so hopeless... Whatever I do will be nothing more than a drop in the ocean...

My "plans" were for it "all" to be done (including my somewhat over-optimistic plans to decorate the girls' bedroom) by Christmas. This is starting to seem like cloud-cuckoo-land.

But I have to do something because I'm hoping (assuming we're not obliged to go to Paris) to have a small party for C's 7th birthday here on 27 December... And there's NO WAY I'm letting the posh kids (and their parents) from the girls' new school come here and see what a f*cking tip we live in...

I'm embarrassed enough when the neighbours see the place...

I know, I shouldn't care what other people think, but I do, I can't help it.

So, part of the New Me is to seriously get my a*se in gear and get going on Mission Tidy-Up.

Mantra: This flat will be presentable by Christmas.

Repeat 1,000 times.

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