I have spent the past two evenings washing my bedsheets (not because there's a huge quantity of unwashed bedsheets that have been quietly attempting to achieve sentience in a corner of my laundry, but because I have so little hanging space to my name I have to wash the few sheets I have in batches) and last night I even caught myself — you may want to sit down — ironing them.
Now there's a facet of my personality I wasn't aware existed.
I'm afraid (cover your
ears eyes, children) I had to have a wee drink to cushion the blow of that revelation.
Next thing you know I'll be thinking activities like vacuumming regularly and dusting are worthwhile ways to spend my time, and I might even start thinking of cooking as a fun pastime AND IT'LL ALL END IN TEARS BEFORE BEDTIME. No, wait, that's not how that morality tale goes, is it? Oh, close enough.
This follows on from my electronic spring-cleaning spree last weekend, which saw me upgrade to Snow Leopard. I opted for the wipe and fresh install option, and am still finding bits and bobs I could have sworn I had backed up but, uh, apparently not. (Note to self: there's a reason why the upgrade option is easier.) Still, my hard-drive has been restored to zingy and error-free status, and it's all just decluttering, right? Right?