I’m pretty sure, though I reserve the right to change my mind, that my indecisiveness is becoming chronic to the point of hampering my life.
I witter with reference to the 40-odd boxes and crates of books, CDs, DVDs and sundries still lying strewn on the floors of all my rooms, including the kitchen.
I mentioned them a few months ago. Still there, and have been since early spring when I decided I was definitely moving.
I have hummed, I have hawed
And have I definitely moved? I definitely have not. I have hummed. I have hawed. I might also stand accused of prevarication.
But that’s not the whole story. The boxes were supposed to go into storage. But there’s only one storage place round here, and they didn’t show much interest.
So, slowly I let things slide. There was also the problem of viewing houses, which is not an easy undertaking from round here.
It means hours of travelling, and staying overnight, probably to no avail. I’ve only looked at one house in all these seven or eight months, and decided against it.
I need help with things
I’d also have to get my gaff deep-cleaned by professionals before putting it on the market. I’m a slaister, and certainly need professional help with cleaning (reader’s voice: “Yes, it certainly sounds like you need professional help.”)
The economy sliding into uncertainty hasn’t helped my own slide into mental paralysis.
I put a stop to email alerts about properties for sale as 99 per cent are unsuitable. And I just got used to the boxes and crates being there (including beside the bed).
I walk round them. It’s ridiculous. Having sort of unconsciously decided to leave any decision till spring (I prefer winter here to summer), I still haven’t put the books and whatnot back on the shelves. The bookcases stand empty.
Will I ever settle anywhere?
Laziness plays a part. I can’t be bothered taking the books and DVDs out and putting them back on the shelves, knowing I’ll just have to reverse the operation later. I already did that last year.
Also, I get upset packing boxes. Will I never settle anywhere?
But that’s not the most absurd thing. Seven boxes of DVDs sit on the floor next to me as I write. Wee detail for verisimilitude: there’s a banana skin on top of one of the boxes. Somebody should really remove that.
Deciding I wanted to watch the first episode of my favourite ever TV series, Firefly, for the umpteenth time, I’d a desultory search through three of the boxes but couldn’t find the blu-ray boxed set. So I just paid £2.49 to stream it on the telly.
None of this is sensible
In succeeding days, sometimes after another unsuccessful rummage, I downloaded all the other 12 episodes individually, costing a total of £32, when I could have bought the entire season for £12-odd.
All this when I had the whole thing on blu-ray in one of the seven boxes.
I hadn’t intended watching all of Firefly but got hooked as usual (and indeed watched it right through again straight afterwards; did I mention how much I love this series?).
But, readers, none of this is sensible, is it? Come New Year, I think I might draw up a resolution to be more decisive. On the other hand, maybe I won’t.
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