My parents came to stay last weekend. Actually, that's a lie, they came to stay four weeks ago, but this blog post has been on my to-do list ever since then.

Anyway, in anticipation of their arrival , I blocked out two hours on the Saturday in my iPhone calendar to clean the house upstairs, then two hours on the Sunday to clean the house downstairs. I did this so I wouldn't end up frantically running around on Thursday morning trying to get it all done and end up being late to meet them, as usually happens.

Of course Saturday came and went and no cleaning got done, so I moved the blocks to Sunday and Monday. And then on Sunday I decided to start watching Line of Duty, so no cleaning happened then either. So I moved the blocks to Monday and Tuesday. Then Tuesday and Wednesday. Then on Tuesday I didn't have time so I changed Wednesday's allotted time to four hours so I could do it all in one go (the exact thing I'd been trying to avoid). Then Wednesday was really busy, so what did I end up doing? Frantically cleaning upstairs until gone midnight, then getting up early on Thursday morning to finish it off before dashing to meet my parents at the station. 

Not sure what the moral of this story is but I'm pretty sure that in the time it took me to make those cleaning events in my calendar, move them around endlessly, write this blog post, and make this pie chart, that I could have got a heck of a lot of cleaning done.

housework pie chart

Will I ever learn?

As I found myself trying to ram a towel into the already very full washing machine the other morning, just so I didn't have to leave it looking messy on the kitchen floor, it struck me that I regularly do a lot of things that I go on to regret. Take, for instance, all the times I've opened the fridge door to find just the tiniest drop of milk, but somehow convinced myself that it will be ok, because the magic milk fairy will come and top it up for me so I don't have to walk the ten minutes down to the shop. But then fast forward a couple of hours when I'm gagging for a cup of tea, I go to the fridge and can't believe I've been so foolish as to let it run out. Or when it's late at night and I go to put something in the already very full bin, and I think 'I really should probably change that bin bag now' but then I think 'naaaaaaaaa' and push it all down to make room, knowing full well that I'll be cursing myself when I go to change it the next day and my nice clean jeans get covered in bin juice,

things I always regret doing but still do anyway

A guide to faffing

I consider myself an expert faffer, so I wanted to share my finely honed faffing skills with some of you wannabe faffers out there. I've come to find that rather than being a utterly pointless waste of time and energy, a good faff is an essential part of my creative process, and rather than getting angry at myself for fannying about, I've chosen henceforth to embrace the joy of faffing, as well as the side helping of existential terror it brings.