Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup

Just lugged a metric fuckton of crap down to the bins. I feel more than a little guilty about this because most of it was recyclable and/or reusable crap - margarine tubs that could have been washed for dogtreat storage, glass bottles and jars that should have been washed for jam making or the recycle bin.

The trouble is, this ever-increasing pile of Things I Fully Intended To Get Around To Washing has been sitting there - and increasing - for years now. It's in my mental queue of shit that needs done, sure, but there's always something ahead of it (like washing up the things I need right now to eat off or cook with) and the bigger the pile gets, the less likely it is to ever be done, and... you know how it goes, right? Please say it's not just me.

Well, sometimes being a slob with a limited spoon supply (literally and figuratively) means having to make hard decisions. Today is the first day since Tuesday I've had enough energy to do anything more than take the dogs out to pee and walk myself to the bathroom and back as few times as I can get away with. So I got a big black binbag and filled it with every single sticky, mould-lined jam jar and greasy rancid plastic container I could find - and I do mean filled. And I dropped the entire lot into the wheelie bin with a resounding crash and a huge sense of liberation.

It's nearly nothing, on the scale of the crawling chaos that is my kitchen and my life, and this small symbolic act may have used up the whole of my day's energy ration. My list of things I wanted to get done today is still exponentially larger than the things I can actually manage. But I still feel a lot better for it, and I have no regrets.

Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup

Just lugged a metric fuckton of crap down to the bins. I feel more than a little guilty about this because most of it was recyclable and/or reusable crap - margarine tubs that could have been washed for dogtreat storage, glass bottles and jars that should have been washed for jam making or the recycle bin.

The trouble is, this ever-increasing pile of Things I Fully Intended To Get Around To Washing has been sitting there - and increasing - for years now. It's in my mental queue of shit that needs done, sure, but there's always something ahead of it (like washing up the things I need right now to eat off or cook with) and the bigger the pile gets, the less likely it is to ever be done, and... you know how it goes, right? Please say it's not just me.

Well, sometimes being a slob with a limited spoon supply (literally and figuratively) means having to make hard decisions. Today is the first day since Tuesday I've had enough energy to do anything more than take the dogs out to pee and walk myself to the bathroom and back as few times as I can get away with. So I got a big black binbag and filled it with every single sticky, mould-lined jam jar and greasy rancid plastic container I could find - and I do mean filled. And I dropped the entire lot into the wheelie bin with a resounding crash and a huge sense of liberation.

It's nearly nothing, on the scale of the crawling chaos that is my kitchen and my life, and this small symbolic act may have used up the whole of my day's energy ration. My list of things I wanted to get done today is still exponentially larger than the things I can actually manage. But I still feel a lot better for it, and I have no regrets.