Just a brief rant…
I don’t like washing up at the best of times. I do it though. I have to because I like to cook and I need a clean, uncluttered work space if I am to do it properly without getting too stressed. Same thing applies to almost every aspect of my life. I cannot and will not live in a pigsty.
Now I appreciate that Jems was brought up on a farm and that her mother lives in what can tentatively be referred to as organised chaos. The thing is, Jem has started to display similar habits. A little clutter here, a little clutter there. It struck me only this morning that when it comes to clutter and mess in a home where more than one person lives, you can only ever see their clutter and rubbish. You can never see your own. This is because when it comes to your stuff, its your stuff and you most likely put it there. This negates it being rubbish and clutter as you have placed whatever in that specific place because.. well because you can.
So I see only her rubbish, and she sees only mine. Makes me laugh really.
On final thing before I dissappear off and build my log cabin.. Why do women need to use twenty glasses for their drinking water and place them all over the house? I use one cup for my tea in a single day. I went to do the washing up earlier and couldn’t get near the sink because I had to dismantle the glass ‘building’ in front of it. This makes me cry.
Anyway, rant over.
Author: Mark S Thompson
Okay, so these things are kind of hit and miss. If you’re reading this then I am thankful to you for taking the time out of your day to do so. I’ll be honest, when I think of myself as a writer, I kinda cringe. Don’t get me wrong, it is the dream, it's just I never really believe it will go anywhere.
When I think back to the day that I first knew I loved writing, and I mean really knew, I see myself sitting in an English lesson at secondary school. The school was called Wrotham and is in the county of Kent, England. As far as I know, it's still there. English was far and away my favourite subject. The best bit was when the teacher gave the class a selection of words and asked us to make up a story that either contained those words or was about those words, you know. At other times we would be given the first sentence and then write what happens next. Good times. Many times my work would reflect what I had recently read and it would be okay. Nothing special, just okay. On one occasion though I wrote about a merman called Finchy and can remember going into so much depth and detail about him and the underwater kingdom he lived in. I really enjoyed writing that and it must have shown because my teacher commented on it. She was really impressed and loved the story. That was it for me, my moment. Now when I write I think back to those great times and to that story. Hopefully, I’ll write something that you, the reader, will be moved to comment on. For me, there is no greater elixir
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One thought on “Washing my time away…”
Your having a laugh, right? Since when did you turn into the Tidying Up and Clearing Away fairy?
Valuable life lesson learned, though. When it’s your own place, your personal space, your pride and joy, you take a big interest in keeping it ‘right’. If it’s someone else’s responsibility, well, who gives a fuck if you can’t see the floor for beer cans?
And you’re spot on about ‘yours and mine’ clutter. I like to live in unorganised chaos in my computer room, but I hate to see the rest of the house in a mess. And if I put something down in a specific place, then I know where it is…..I get very narked if it gets moved and thus cant find it.
But what do I know?