7,200 things gone, only 2,800 to go
On day 1, I wrote a post called Minimalism On Bad Days. It was all about finding a way to carry on decluttering when you don’t feel like carrying on at all.
For the past few days, I’ve been feeling like I’m swimming upstream underwater. While it’s no fun living in slow motion, the worst part by far is trying to figure out why I’m feeling so rotten.
Is it my thyroid? Am I low on iron? Seasonal depression? Allergies? Is living with a Squirrel the problem? I can go on like this for hours and I’ve found that if you search the internet for long enough you will always find an answer. Hypothyroidism, anemia, low serotonin, rodent co-dependence. Over the years I’ve self-diagnosed every one of them.
The trouble is that googling “mould poisoning” just doesn’t get the decluttering done, so I decided that the next logical step to internet self diagnosing is diagnosing straight from the imagination.
I put my computer away and decided that finding mould in Vancouver in the month of September has got to be its own kind of sickness. Then I invented the cure – a short daily nap and one or two Thomas Haas chocolates.
With the time I saved diagnosing, I tried a speed purge.
I started in the basement.
Then moved up to the bathroom and my bedroom.
And ended at the laundry room.
I’m heading for a kip now clutching my box of chocolates. I hope I get my strength back soon, but not too soon, I wouldn’t want to rush my recovery.
Am I alone in this, or do you sometimes, inexplicably, feel rotten?