Thursday, 6 February 2014
Three weeks to go...
In our house there are 9 sets of Venetian vertical blinds, amounting to 150 separate blades and weights linked together with plastic chain. How do I know this (and why)? Because as part of our departure plan we have to rent out our house and the Powers That Be (Fiela) decided that the deteriorating weights and links must be replaced and the mould stained blades must be cleaned.
This fell under the category of No Problem; sub-category, Get Someone Else To Do It. Easy! Until I managed to get a few quotes and realised it actually fell under the category of That is Toooo Expensive; sub-category, Do It Yourself; Sub-sub-category, Don’t Be A Lazy Mole.
So I spent a day and a half running to and from Bunnings, another day and a half up to my elbows in vinegar and bleach and whilst I was very irritable about this whole process in the beginning, I will admit there is something deeply therapeutic about having blinds clean enough to eat off. Of course, I was probably high on bleach fumes at the time, let’s face it I can’t really smell anything BUT bleach now a few days on. The point is, this blind cleaning frenzy is but one of the many little jobs Fiela and I have been putting off for some time... alright years if truth be told. A bit of paint here, a bit of bleach there and suddenly our house feels clean and fresh and wonderful. Just in time for someone else to rent and appreciate it. WTF?
Why didn’t we just do the jobs when they first appeared to need doing, instead of ignoring them and procrastinating? And this is where we fall into the Horatio or Hamlet category. There are those who just get straight onto it, do the Bunnings run and feel supremely satisfied but also bloody tired at the end of every Saturday. Then there are the others who procrastinate, take a quick holiday (maybe to
with pirates?) and then with a rush of blood to the head and a not very well
thought out plan, do ALL the jobs, exhaust themselves, have an almost religious
experience as they look at all they have accomplished, never to pick up a
hammer or paint brush again.
Clearly we are of the latter kind, but I’ve made a little pact with myself to be the former. Let’s face it, with the tiny space we’ll be afforded in the Jayco Swan, procrastinating about even the smallest of chores will no doubt lead to someone having a brain explosion over which are clean and which are dirty clothes, why there pencils all over the floor (a wonderful revelation to have at 2am) and where the hell am I supposed to sit- every available space in this van has been piled up with crap!!!??? As you can guess, brain explosions have already occurred over these exact scenarios.
So who are you: Hamlet or Horatio?
Both approaches have their merits, but I’m definitely going with the just do it approach… until I can’t really be bothered in which case I’ll probably spend a lot of time wondering whether ‘tis nobler to clean or not to clean…