Releasing my inner Monica

What can I say? Only yesterday I was chatting with a colleague bemoaning the fact that I no longer had the ingredients for a funny story. I no longer had my muses…the toddlers are grown and their usefulness for blog humour is some what less than it used to be. I can no longer acceptably talk about bodily functions and the misuse of words in hysterical contexts. I can no longer dish the dirt on revolting habits or use a 3pm glass of wine as a respectable excuse (it’s tea these days…what happened?). These days I do sensible things such as make bread, go to work, practise yoga, speak to my mum on the phone about normal human things rather than spending my days cleaning small bums, fishing things out of the orifices of various animals, dolls and children, wear regular clothes rather than pyjamas!

How wrong could I be?

Ever since I was a teenager I have loved to organise. There is nothing more exciting at the start of a new academic year than a new pencil case, diary or planner. When I was around 15 and, quite clearly in need of a life or some kind of early 1980’s social media to adle my brain with, I became a little bit interested in organising my extensive library in my bedroom by the dewey decimal system…and breeeeeathe. There it’s out! I feel reborn…!

Of course, over the years I was ridiculed for this by friends and even my husband (how mean! I know, right!). However, one of my summer jobs was working in a library and (not that I wanted to work in a library for life) the filing….oh the filing.. !! It inspired me to just label up those bad boys. I’m pretty sure that this is a reason to this day that shops that are organised and laid out beautifully, aesthetically pleasing to my systematic mind make me all of a tingle and want to roll about in them!

My house has always been a place for organisation, “a place for everything, everything in it’s place” was a rhyme that my kids used to sing at the Montessori and Steiner schools they attended. Of course, from their perspective this was a rhyme that was designed to ensure they learned to do the exact frickin’ opposite *insert rolly eyes*, something that at least two of them have not un-learned to this day!

Fast forward to 2019 (although, I am beginning to wonder if I am still in that 1980’s time warp) and I treated myself to a new toy with some more of my Christmas money.

In our endeavor to shift to less plastic, I’ve started to accumulate shelves and cupboards of jars rather than plastic bags. They all look cute in their different sizes and styles but…oh crap, who am I kidding, you know where this is heading….

I bought a label maker!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I am literally squealing ! It’s just so…neat and pretty and it’s making all my jars look so uniformed…

My husband has left the house for fear of being labelled if he stands still too long.

The outcome of this post is that I no longer need little people to laugh at hysterically and use unreservedly for my own gratification and creativity…a mirror (and a label maker) works just as well.

Happy Weekend !!

2 thoughts on “Releasing my inner Monica

  1. Judith Potter 5th Jan 2019 — 5:48 pm

    Fantastic darling daughter! I hope hasten to add these cannot possibly be inherited traits🤣🤣🤣

    Like

  2. Wish I was more like that. I’m just a bit messy.

    Like

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