ok, so i'm once again embarkin on the mammoth task that is sortin my tat out. 5 rooms of tat. 5 big rooms of tat. & a garden. & shed......fuck

i've just found journal notes from 2004 that contain a lament due to my inability to sort out this house. 4 fuckin years ago! majority of the stuff has just lurked here waitin until i really cannot stand it anymore. & besides, don't reckon i'll have much luck sellin up as is. & further besides, if i don't make some money real soon then i'll have no choice 'cos i'll lose this house.

so far, i've managed to pack a box of clothes to flog on ebay. i've been 'at it' since 3pm, it's now 8:37......fuck

i tell myself i'm not actually procrastinating, (my favourite chore) right now by writin this, that in fact this is a healthy way to utilise a tea break. and this may indeed be true, but alas the spliff in my left hand mocks my self-delusion. (now if i actually get round to postin this, hmmm....)