Five Hours…!

Five hours! That’s what it took me to clean out one teeny study today. Five long, dusty hours mostly spent deconstructing one bookshelf and sorting out my desk drawers. I mentioned the study needed a good ‘bottoming’ as my mother would say in my Bat Fit post, I just didn’t realise quite how much elbow grease was required.

Mid Point Destruction!

Mid Point Destruction!

This photo illustrates where I was during hour 2, when the shelves had been liberally scattered all over the floor as I tried in vain to sort books by type. Can’t have my literary fiction mixed up with my ‘grown up’ sci-fi, which in turn is rubbing shoulders with a fair pile of steampunk themed novels. Then there’s the non-fiction randomness that seems to grow throughout the year – cue psycho-geography mixed with biblical theology and the Gnostic Gospels and several books on women of the Celts. My inner librarian was having phantom kittens by this stage. Especially when it came to The Great Book Clearance of 2015.

Yup, I finally realised that the books were taking me over. Breeding in random corners. If I don’t get a grip now I am likely to die buried forever, mummified, under a pile of Sookie Stackhouse novels. That, and a few random Laurell K. Hamiltons and P.C. Cast vampires chomping at my vitals. I felt overwhelmed by literature.  Bad literature, at that!

So 100 of the blighters are now all bagged up ready for depositing at the charity shop. Him Underfoot whisked them into the vestibule for disposal tomorrow in a suspiciously quick manner. Well, I guess my study is a few stone lighter…and strangely, so is my mind. I’ve never been good at letting books go – they’ve been an emotional crutch my entire life and many of them have a special place in both my heart and a storage box (or 6) in the cupboard at the top of the stairs. But I read a lot of disposable fiction and when I was earning I didn’t think twice about buying entire 10 books series for commuting reading. It was a reward. Now I’m not commuting but trying to actually work in this space these books have become simply a distraction. I’m not going to read them again (believe me, HU did grill me on the possibility that I may actually just go out and buy them all back). If I did want to read them again I have 3 perfectly adequate libraries within walking distance at my disposal.

...and breathe!

…and breathe!

My little room is all clean, and I swung the shelves back against a different wall and the room opened up enough for me to put down the lovely rug my brother gave me. My great grandmother & grandmother are now framed and positioned where they keep a benign eye on me, both pictures taken during the timeframe I’m writing in.

I can see wood!

I can see wood!

Order is indeed restored and I’ve made space on the shelves for my current research tomes rather than piling them haphazardly on my desk. I feel much more organised, and in a good place to start focusing on Monday. I’ve planned some opening writing exercises to kickstart my writing brain to get it over the initial fog and I’ve set up my entire way of working so that there are no excuses for not sitting down and simply getting on with it. Everything I need is within easy reach and ready to use. I really have to crack working from home this year, and I intend to start now.

Just a small pile of reading for January

Just a small pile of reading for January

It took a while, but cathartic. Now I’ve cleaned out 100 books from this one room I am inclined to continue the sort-out. The 6 boxes need to be inspected. The HUGE bank of built in shelves in the dining room definitely need a cull, though some of the ratty old paperbacks in there have huge emotional clout for me (David Eddings, the tale weaver of my youth, lurks within). I’m beginning to realise that I simply don’t need all this ‘stuff’. I felt quite overwhelmed by my own possessions today and I didn’t like it.  I need to raise a little cash for my writing retreat later in the year, so I am already planning a clothing and jewellery cull for Ebay just before Whitby Goth Weekend.

Let’s hope this productive spell lasts; I’m far too easily distracted.  I feel in a positive place tonight, and hope that this feeling continues throughout 2015. Roll on Monday and some proper creative project planning!

Welcome, 2015

So what has been to date the worst year of my life is over. I am beyond happy it’s 2015. So why did I wake up in an unholy snit this morning?! Absolutely brim full of sputum and temper I was. For no apparent reason. Poor Him Underfoot!  Given that we don’t really celebrate NYE and were tucked up in bed completely sober by 9.30pm I didn’t even have a hangover as an excuse. Yet that’s what it felt like I had…

Hmmm…I suspect this is the tag end of the alcoholic food coma that we spent last week in! We haven’t had a drink since Sunday. Dry January is now upon us, and the wine bottles sing their siren song from the kitchen wine rack. Well, no one said it was easy! I suspect boredom plays a large part in our falling into the bottle; we’ve been for a short walk to try to alleviate the crick in my conky neck today but the weather was turning pretty nasty on the coast and we’ve retreated behind closed curtains again.

Perhaps there is something unbalancing the humours in the waters in these parts – I rang my lovely Aunty, normally the chirpiest person I know, and she confessed SHE’D also woken in a snit! We’ve laughed it out together, she’s had a gin and tonic (pah!), I had an Earl Grey tea and now both feel much better.

Happy new year, then. May 2015 be a much more peaceful, stable, happy and healthy time for everyone. I’m a little scared about keeping myself motivated and achieving my goals, but I have the greatest team of cheerleaders in the world shouting me on in my lovely family. Here’s waving at you all:

New Year's Day Me!

New Year’s Day Me! x