It must be the time of year. Two of my online friends (well, ladies whose blogs I follow and occasionally comment on) also seem to be struggling. They have more tangible worries than I do, so today I made an extra effort to pull myself out of this funk.
I spent some time cuddling my chooks. OK. I spent some time stroking the one chook who is currently accepting cuddles, and chatting to the other 4 who aren't. It was wet and cold outside, so good for clearing my head a bit. I then dosed myself up and went upstairs to tackle the box room, which is currently living up (down) to its name.
It didn't used to be quite so bad. Then all the Christmas decoration boxes went in there, then the stuff from the guest bedroom.... then there was all the stuff to go to the animal rescue jumble sale... and then there was no room to get in to get to anything.
I have a confession.
At one point I remember standing in the doorway and, in desperation, lobbing stuff in. There wasn't anyway to get in and place the stuff. I had neither the time nor the inclination to sort the room out, and I needed to put the stuff somewhere.
I kept the door open so I could see the shameful mess every time I went upstairs.
This morning I decided to have round one of clearing it out. Baby steps. No point in having a goal of "empty box room". I wasn't sure how far I would get before my energy level was too depleted. My goal was to clear the space around Orla so I could play her, and my rules were that everything I picked up had to be put into its proper home, or else allocated to a pile. Pile A, on the landing, was for stuff for the jumble sale; Pile B, also on the landing, was paper and card for recycling box; Pile C, also on the landing, was rubbish (and initially had a rubbish bin); Pile D, was an area in the room for some boxes for stuff which I couldn't deal with at the moment. Pile D was a cop-out really, but it enabled me to manage my energy levels, and I achieved much more than I expected.
It still looks like a box room, but it is tidy. er.