IT’S amazing how de-cluttering can put things into perspective.

 

 

I don’t like to have too much furniture; it just encourages me to keep junk. My spare room used to have a bed but it kept inviting drunken waifs and strays who’d attended my evening soiree’s. In the end I got fed up being so hospitable and gave the bed away on Gumtree.

The empty space became a clean laundry area. This then became the household dumping ground for things we don’t use anymore but want to keep. It’s now four months past December and the Christmas tree is still in the corner awaiting removal to the roof space. That’s his job – I don’t do ladders.

 

 

So it was with much gusto on Saturday morning that I headed up the stairs with the Bluetooth speaker, a Spotify playlist and a roll of black bags. The plan was to ditch all the stuff we didn’t use anymore. This was easier said than done. Somehow I ended up with a bigger keep pile than I started with. Nostalgia took over as I was awash with old bills, memories and college folders. Every item had some sort of meaning, making it harder to throw in the bin.

All our flight ticket stubs and excursion flyers are stacked up in old perfume boxes. I’ve already made one massive collage and displayed them on the landing. We don’t have the room for another.

  

I’d kept my journalism portfolio because returning to education was a big turning point in my life. But it was pure cringe material. The naivety was oozing out of this thing; I had a redner reading it. I was a deluded wee rookie who took advice from the wrong people.

In my 2009 placement journal I had written: “XY rang the office and I was told off for upsetting community representatives”. I’m still at it. They’re probably trying to work out a way of snipping my internet wires.

Another excerpt read “XX told me that one of my sources is not to be relied on” and I listened to them. Fast forward to the present day and that source is on the tip of every tongue in Ireland – the revelations from their story could even influence the outcome of the Westminster elections.

Over the years I distanced myself from XX as they proved to be unworthy of my trust.

I’ve had that much betrayal in friendships that I’m selective of whom I allow into my circle these days. Anyone that raises the slightest doubt is booted out and ignored for the foreseeable. Ruthlessness in physical and emotional matters is important to me and my gaggle of witches (I mean friends).

I’ve learned to treat my friends like my possessions. If they take up too much of my space and don’t give me enough satisfaction in return – they’re at risk of being sorted out, put in a black bag and dumped. Only joking. No I’m not..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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