Day one (Friday) started off badly. I wasn't feeling good so had a nap when the girls went to school. My "nap" turned into 3 hours sleep, I finally got out of bed at 11.15am when I had originally planned to be up and ready to tackle the smallest bedroom at 9.30am. A big fat OOOPS! By the time I'd sorted the boys with their brunch (which consisted of toast and a bowl of cereal for J, he's going through a faze where he has to have two different cereals in the same bowl, this morning he had coco pops and shreddies, and Baby B had his normal bottle, full to the top.) it was almost 1pm. I had 2 and a half hours until the girls were due home and another hour on top until we had to go out.
Stood in the doorway, I wished someone or something would give me an excuse to not start this now. I look at the pile of junk just in the doorway. How on earth was I going to sort through it all? We had 8 years worth of clutter, stuff I didn't even remember we had, books unread, cds unlistened, and I don't know what else!
I thought to myself, If I don't start now, it'll never get done. So, I picked up a black bag and began filling it. It didn't take me that long either. Over the three days, up until yesterday, I spent about 3 hours in there each day. Once I got past the stuff we had put in there before Christmas, and after (tree and decorations!), it was quite empty. There were three big boxes of stuff which we had from the move that we'd never got round to emptying so I just put the stuff straight into a rubbish bag. 9 black bags full and numerous pieces of wood later, all that's left in there now is a table and two 2-seater sofas. And I can't move them until tomorrow when the Mr has a day off work.
Now onto the kitchen cupboards........
