Thursday 10 February 2011


I didn't really know what to do to celebrate the New Year. I didn't actually feel much like celebrating, and I put this down to the week of boredom that preceeded New Year's Eve.

I had 3 or 4 party invitations and put myself down for a quiet dinner in South London. It would have been fun, but at Piccolino everyone kept asking me what I was doing and my response was that I didn't really know. So Francesco decided to host a party.

I thought he was joking, so spent most of New Year's Eve tidying my flat. Or rather, opening envelopes. You see my flat had become quite messy over the last 3 years or so, for a number of reasons, and I'd got fed up of if after being stuck there for a week with nothing to do. It was an embarassment.

Then Francesco called me and asked what time I was coming round, so I cancelled with the guys in South London and headed to North London, because the friends going there are a bit closer to me and more in my regular circle. It turned out to be quite a nice party, but I went home still not feeling much like celebrating.

The reason I didn't really feel like celebrating, I can reveal now, is that I wanted to celebrate it with someone special who wasn't there and who I was unable to get hold of. Fortunately events turned out well and that someone special is now my girlfriend. Wahay :)

Back to the tidy up. I spent 3 1/2 days ruthlessly tidying. First doing all my outstanding paperwork (some of which included paying bills and depositing cheques), then ruthlessly throwing away old stuff. I seemed to have accumulated 20 bags of junk. Well, junk to me anyway. And 4 months of back-issues of Autocar magazine that I hadn't even opened.

I bundled the 'junk' in bags, and bundled a lot of old clothes in more bags. Probably about 20 bags in total. These bags went home to my family where it was looked upon as a treasure trove. My nieces and nephews loved the random trinkets, and my stepbrother was quite pleased with a lot of the clothes I was getting rid of. The rest was destined for India, because, it would seem, people in India love junk made in China that's destined for the UK. You'd think they could get it direct and save carbon dioxide by not shipping it here and back. Oh well.

So now my flat is nice and tidy. Pristine even. It's like it was when I first moved in, and I feel so much better for it. I'm sleeping better and no longer embarrassed to have visitors.

Watch this space for a dinner invitation.
Well, not literally this actual space because a) I don't intend to modify this post and b) it's highly unlikely that I'll invite random people to my house via my blog. So maybe you shouldn't watch this space at all. Or maybe you don't and I am still the only one who reads this.

No comments:

Post a Comment