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Another one bites the dust

January 10, 2019

It’s January 10th and the Christmas tree is still up. It should have been taken down Twelfth Night (January 6th). I’m sure this isn’t like breaking a mirror. I don’t think this involves seven years of bad luck. But still.

On New Year’s Day I said I would write a post every day for six weeks. That lasted two days.

Last Wednesday I sat up all night watching Longmire on Netflix. Last Friday I sat up all night watching season one of The Blacklist.  That series has 22 episodes, half of which I watched. On Monday I sat up all night watching the second half, then I sat on the sofa all day Tuesday watching The Five.

Other than Thursday, Saturday and Tuesday (when I’d never gone to bed) this morning is the first morning in some time that I’ve got out of bed before noon. It was only fifteen minutes before noon, but still. Celebrate what you can.

Why oh why am I doing this? I wish I knew. What I do know is that re-subscribing to Netflix was clearly a very bad idea.

Last Friday I did some surface tidying because some friends were coming to dinner, but the truth is my home is a filthy mess. I would be appalled if anyone dropped by unannounced. Every day I say I’m going to wash that floor, dust that furniture, clean the toilet, etc, etc. Every day I don’t. I feel as if I’m cocooned in some sort of fog and I have no way of breaking out.

The state of the house is both a reflection of my state of mind and a distraction. I look at the mess and think: How can I possibly sit down to write when there is all this housework to do? I have no idea if this is true, but I think it’s worth investigating. If I can set one day aside to actually do something, other than sitting on the sofa watching Netflix or playing stupid fucking spider solitaire, maybe I can break the spell. Maybe the next day I can do something, too.

So let’s set this afternoon aside. Starting with the Christmas tree. Let’s see how far I get.

From → Black dog diary

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