The JFDI mantra is reaping benefits. Or am I reaping benefits because of it? Not sure about the logic of that, but I will say that since I consciously adopted it as a mantra (I like having a mantra, never had one before, it's a novelty still) I have felt as though more Stuff Has Got Done than previously used to.
Small things like loading or emptying the dishwasher in a timely manner, rather than leaving dirty dishes on the side and tutting each time I go into the kitchen and see them. Putting the hoover round as soon as I think "ugh, look at that floor" rather than waiting another day or so and being annoyed at the FILTH the whole time. Walking the dog earlier in the day so she chills out and goes to sleep on her back with her paws in the air for the next six hours, and I don't have the constant "must take the dog out" thing in the back of my head.
None of it is particularly significant, but it adds up to me feeling more cheerful, and the house feeling less chaotic.
One larger task which we tackled last week was the reorganisation of my study. It's the third bedroom of our house, too small for a double bed, cosy for a single bed and (small) wardrobe, perfect for a desk and some bookcases and a sewing table. And some guitars. And an amp.*
Previously, the computer desk was under the window, where the light is best. I used to work from home (see many and various whiny posts about Working From Home) and needed to be able to read tedious lengthy documents without straining my eyes while simultaneously dealing with tedious lengthy emails on the work computer. I sound like Samuel Pepys, but you get the point. However, in more recent years, the only thing I have used my PC for is playing World of Warcraft and dicking about online.
My sewing table, on the other hand, was tucked away in the opposite corner of the room, furthest from the window, sunk in gloom under the wall shelves. The wall shelves are great, but they did mean that I tended to bang my head when I was standing over my sewing table trying to sort out recalcitrant sleeves.
In a flash of rare brilliance, I realised that if the two were swapped about, there would be both more light and more headroom for sewing, and the smaller desk (with PC screen) would sit neatly under the shelves, thus making the space around the doorway less cluttered.
Mr WithaY and I set about emptying the room, revealing many years worth of dead spiders and assorted dust bunnies in corners and behind furniture. Pleuk. There was a brief lively bout of Language as the PC and all its hellish associated cables were disconnected, but other than that, there was minimal chaos.
A thorough hoovering of the carpet and cleaning of neglected skirting boards followed, then everything was put back in their new places. And, dear readers, it has worked very well. My sewing table (still v untidy, as I haven't yet finished putting stuff back on shelves and into the attic) has more space, more light and looks far more useful. My desk is set back neatly in a smaller space and seems more practical. The only downside is that I am not able to lean on the radiator if I get chilly whilst using the PC. An incentive to use my sewing machine more.
Mr WithaY bought me a v funky computer joystick so that I can play Elite Dangerous - a space trading/combat game he has been enjoying recently - and I have been learning how to use it. Once I stop whirling my spaceship round in circles, firing all weapons at once I am sure it will be a lot of fun.
Other news: I have been planning a party for my 50th birthday in a few weeks. I cannot believe that I am this old. Seriously. Almost 50. What the actual fuck? I assume that once Saga start sending me brochures for coach tour holidays and cheap car insurance I will automatically get my Old Lady white cardigan and purple rinse through the post from whichever department deals with age. The Ministry of Elderly But Vociferous Women.
Also: Adverts. Why are so many adverts now using the same four songs? It;s very confusing. If they aren't all using the same four songs, they have a shonky twee female vocalist with a fucking ukulele doing ear-bleeding cover versions of old pop songs (Wonderful Life springs to mind) which make me want to throw things.
That Centerparcs advert with the bears. Puh-lease. If a bear ever got into Centerparcs it would look at the foetid throng in dismay and flee back into the woods as fast as possible.
*I have decided to sell my amp. It's huge and powerful and does all sorts of incredible things, and I am not using a hundredth of its potential. So, after my party it will be going. I'm using it as the sound system on the day, which is why it's still here.