Despite being a 3 day weekend in the UK, and having a rare and much desired quiet one, I found myself anxious and uneasy. Possibly having minimal human contact had something to do with this, but after a little bit of thinking I wrote it down to two things – the weight of things ‘to do’ and decisions to make.
The first was the ‘to do’ – I really wanted this weekend to be productive. I was going to sort out a bunch of furniture that was cluttering up my kitchen and reclaim that space as a happy one. I used to love my kitchen, but unfortunately in the last two weeks my feelings had somewhat changed thanks to some unwanted visitors (RATS *shudder*). The underlying problem has been solved (big fuck off metal plate over the entry hole, lots and lots of rat poison), but the love hadn’t returned. The spare furniture was getting me down like it never used to before; my resolve was to fix everything up to sell, starting this weekend.
But all weekend I didn’t do anything, and the further into the weekend I went, the worse my mood got. Eventually this afternoon I decided to take the legs of my existing table and hide it all, making way for a gate-leg dining table I impulsively bought off a friend 2 weeks ago, then start on the mirror and small side table I’ve had for years (with the aim the whole time to ‘up-cycle’ and sell on).
The table now hidden, I went to open the table from the friend and saw the mirror blocking the way. It was at this point that I had the first of two ‘minimalist moments’ – I just thought fuck it. Next thing, the mirror is in the bin room. To put this in context, I rescued this mirror from a tip when I was in university. I left university in 2007. On my return from the bin room, I opened up the gate leg table and I had my second ‘minimalist moment’ when I realised I really hated the table. I mean I had known that on some level since I said ‘you know what, I’ll take it’. It was too big, it was the wrong colour, and I could spend £100+ making it better, but I won’t. In the same way I hadn’t painted the side table black in the last 2 years since I’ve had it. I also knew that I really liked the table I had just hidden. And so it came to pass that the table, the mirror (rescued from the bin room) and the small side table are now all in the back of my car, to be dropped off at a charity shop tomorrow in my lunch break, and the hidden table re-instated to its full glory in the centre of the kitchen.
My mood improved, I vowed to renew my commitment to minimalism (plan awaiting further thought, but will be updated on these pages), and turned to my next problem – big decisions to make…