Busy life, messy room and living for the weekend

On Friday mornings it’s a struggle to wake up. My energy is flailing and my room looks like a bomb has literally hit it and in the process of hitting it, said bomb meets another bomb and decides to reproduce. And as all the little baby bombs enter the world, the pressure is too much and they implode. All over my laminate flooring.

A skirt here, a bra there. A rabbit tunnel by the door, slippers poking out from under my bed and clothes simply stepped out of and left rippling like a puddle of the day before. Things build up; piles of books, receipts, wires, stacks of leaning, milk licked bowls,  a slurp of dairy left in the bottom to spend the morning curdling nicely. Dust, fur, and swirls of matted hair. Little pieces of me and Gray C in every nook, and every cranny. Tights like deflated, wrinkly black snakes, drape out of my linen basket and cardboard tubes, previously the heart of wrapping paper rolls, protrude, angular and nibbled by the resident rodents teeth. The only thing she’s allowed to chew these days.


Before: Oh good grief!

I try to tame the explosions. I try to keep a handle on the situation. I try to make my bed before I go out. I try to drop the bowls and cups off in the kitchen when I leave for the day. But time is limited and I need every minute I can get.

So when the weekend comes, I clear away all the debris of the week, all the flung socks that somehow land on the window sill, the scattering of dirty orange smears and black smudges on once soapy, pearly make-up wipes are plucked from the floor and some semblance of order is restored. And I sleep easier knowing that this fresh canvas stretches over two whole days, before the mad, disarray falls again like thick, cluttering fog.

This pair of days, these 48 glorious hours, are mine completely. This full stop to the working week, is mine to be relished and savoured. My clear room is the vessel, that delivers me surely, to the land of Weekend.


After: Hooray!

Have a lovely weekend folks, I certainly plan to. Fill it with the richness of friends, family, food and sweet F.A. (Excuse my french!)



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