Two days off a week is entirely insufficient to do anything productive with my apartment. I can clean it... to a reasonable extent.... but I need to get some painting done and this involves in-depth chucking of stuff and that takes more than 2 days. I knew I had a lot of stuff, the fact that after a year (at least) of intensive chucking I still have piles in corners leads me to believe that I have no true sense of the full amount of crap I hang onto. If I can have this much physical junk and not realize it, how much emotional clutter do I have that I am not dealing with, or even aware of having so that I can deal with it? Good God it's daunting!
BUT I have accomplished a lot (even though it sometimes feels like I haven't) and the only way to tackle a daunting task is to start. Somewhere. One little thing at a time. Baby steps... baby steps....
So instead of diddling here (which I'd rather do than sort through the pile of mess in my livingroom corners) I'm going to go set my clock for one hour. You can do anything when you know there is a finite time for it. Even cleaning. One hour of action rather than three hours of moaning about it and I know I'll feel better about it for having simply attempted to get SOMETHING done.
Honestly though, I do feel that when I'm not here, or am sleeping, or otherwise occupied, that someone comes into my home and messes it up. Entropy? I think it's an actual entity! Mr. Entropy! How else can there be so much stuff on a kitchen table that was clear yesterday?
Maybe it's the dog?
More likely the cat.
Time to set the clock... and maybe get one of those 'nanny-cams'.