Hell’s Bells

I have just been jogged (no not jogging, me and running have a very tenuous relationship, and tend to just ignore each other should we happen to pass each other in the street). A friend has just posted her organisational accomplishments on Facebook which has prompted my brain to fire images of new kitchens and bathrooms at me incessantly for the last hour.

In 16 days workmen will begin appearing. Over the space of two weeks they will rip out my old kitchen, and replace it, they will also rip out my bathroom and replace that, and on top of that they will renew all my electrical sockets and light-fittings.

My flat is small. My Kitchen is small. I am assured that at the end of day one I will have new cupboards and be able to put stuff in them… back to the small flat thing , I am going to have to move the cooker, fridge freezer and washing machine out of the kitchen. They won’t move far (well to be honest there isn’t far for them to move) just in to the living room.. but.. well I already have three bookcases, two chairs, a TV and stand, a shelving unit of yarn, my desk and stool, a little knick knack unit, the footstool a small table, craft drawers and a pile of plastic crates full of fabric in here. One of the sockets to be replaced is behind bookcases jam packed with books and dvds, two others are behind the yarn/fabric stuff. If my living room and kitchen were separate I’d just jam stuff in there and close the door, but I live in an Edinburgh tenement, my kitchen is part of my living room. There will need to be room for the guys to work/bring stuff in/move/breathe so I am going to have to have a clear out/up and figure out how on earth I am going to make space for everything to happen and actually not go mad.

Of course on top of all that it’s my birthday in 3 weeks and I am planning to have people over on the 29th.

Maybe I should be knitting myself a nice comfy straight jacket.

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