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November 27, 2010


Ah so a day of a lot of action in my house. But seriously, Christ! The state of me!

I spent last night and this morning “cleaning out the cupboards”. Can someone tell me  I am not the only one who keeps a bag of paper bags of paper bags? Or a pill bottle full of stink bomb seeds? Half a tin of paint of a colour I painted over already in case I wanted to match the colour again another time cause I loved it so much? Mates, I am only a fifth of the way there. I decided I needed to make some guidlines like “All mail in the bin, dont keep anything like that any more” when I pull out a wadge of unopened mail from 2008. Divorce proceeding papers – does one keep this or bin them? Presently I have filed them, and a number of other things in a large carboard box which I fully intend to go through again and put stuff away sometime this year. But if it doesnt get looked at til March 2011 that is also okay with me [which means June]. Only A-HA! I have booby trapped it. I have just thrown the little presents I will need to fish out for people before Christmas day in it too. So there is a possibility it will be done before January 4th 2011 before I go back to work after the hols.

I once asked Abbie and Lee how they kept their house so organised and beautiful and Lee told me the secret was to throw everything out and not keep anything. I wish I could put that voice in my head instead of my mothers every time I find a half used spiral bound secretary note book full of my exhusbands notes where he has written the most inane lists. It is a contstant battle.

Today was Dora’s birthday. We shared some Chocolate HobNobs and a glass of Rosé Shoeler in the good glasses.

Half way through her visit I went to the loo and reaslised the crotch of my light grey tracky trousers as bloods stains in them from my recent period visible from the outside. I wasn’t so bothered about Dora having seen them. She knows what a grot I am already. It is just everyone in the street when I went up to use the cash machine will have a knowledge far more intimate that I would like. Not sure if it is a bad as the time a pair of knickers fell out of my jeans leg as I walked past a large gang of Reebok hoodies in about 2001. Ah well. Time heals all wounds

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