Any day now I am going to do a complete wardrobe reorganisation and then make tons of money selling my old clothes on Vinted. Also, learn Spanish. Go through the 10,000 photos on my phone, print out the nice ones of the kids and put them in nice frames, and create one of those charming gallery walls. Definitely get into meditating and journalling. Should probably write a will? I’m all set. I’m just waiting for, say, a clear week to magically appear in my diary and I’ll get started.
Except, the penny is starting to drop that those pristine, blank diary pages are never going to happen. Life doesn’t work like that. And anyway, say a week off did magically appear, which it isn’t going to, wouldn’t it make more sense to go on holiday than sit on the floor sorting jumpers? If I had even half a day off, surely it would be a shame to waste it on dull jobs when I could, maybe, go to the cinema on my own – or get the train to Paris for lunch?
