Spring Clean

Spring is here. Time for a clean up

Spring Clean

WB xx

What's the Deal with all the Sober Tidying Up?

Is it just a good distraction method? Or is there more to it?

What's the Deal with all the Sober Tidying Up?

WB xx

Now I'm Sober, I have my Best Epiphanies with a Toilet Brush in my hand...

Oh, God, I've officially turned into my Mother.

Now I'm Sober, I have my Best Epiphanies with a Toilet Brush in my hand..

WB xx

The Fall.

Labour Day weekend is now over. The kids are now back to school, and police cars are everywhere, presumably hoping to boost their September Traffic Violation Targets with people who forget to slow down in the school zones (yes I know that they SAY they don't have targets...)

September is the Start of the Year. I can't shake that feeling. January is so not a "starting month" - it's in the middle of dreary winter, it's dark and depressing, whereas September is full of glorious colour, there's the magical transition from dusty summer to dewy misty mornings with watery sunlight, and the smell of fresh start in the air.

So I felt the urge this past weekend to clean, declutter and prepare for the fresh beginning.

Cleaning and decluttering has been the hallmark of my sobriety, but this weekend was in a different league.

I changed the spare room into my new office. Three reasons :

1. The spare room is at the back of the house and is quieter
2. It has more room for my large desk and filing cabinet
3. It has a lovely window that looks out over the forest.

Ok. You got me...

1. No large spare room = no visitors
2. See # 1
3. See # 1 & # 2.

In three days I had cleaned out the room, including the gun cabinet ( I found several bullets and half a deer antler that my husband claimed was 'ceremonial'), I had painted the room a lovely shade of "basmati rice" (off white), donated three large bags of clothes and linen to my mother-in-law's church fundraiser for refugees, and two boxes of bric -a brac to my evil sister-in-law's fund raiser for Belly Dancers ( Belly Dancers are people too) 

I felt smug as I set up my desk last night. Then.......everybody freeze, did you hear that?.......who's there?..

Not you again! 

Whaatt???? Whatdaya mean? I was just saying, no, SUGGESTING...that after all that work....one tinsy glass of wine wouldn't hurt...now would it?

Why don't you just fuck off?

Oh come on! Look at your lovely room! And a New Start tomorrow!! Go back to this sober thingy tomorrow!!

118 days without you, I don't need you now.....

You see? You can do it! So one glass of wine tonight, and then back on the wagon tomorrow! No biggy....

I don' t do "one glass of wine". You know that. I do "one bottle of wine" and then I want more. If I give in now, my lovely new office won't be a place of sanctuary, a place to write, to build my dreams, it will be the room of shame, the room of failure. It will be YOUR room, you bitch. So fuck off.

And I had my first cup of tea in my new office, watching the shadows grow longer and the light fade.