Fret not, dear readers, I am emotionally fine. What's happening today is that I am hauling a veritable mountain of accumulated detritus out to the local dump.
I will be counting car-loads. My nifty little TARDIS car does have a carrying capacity, despite all my insistence that its volume is infinite. AND I will be doing this after my writing is done.
I'm still in the process of evicting extraneous plates and cups. I've yet to get around to evicting extraneous glass, extraneous pots or pans, or extraneous kitchen gadgets.
It's all going to the shed and relatives do not need me to buy any more. Thank you.
I am minimising my clutter. Giving me more clutter is going to be greeted with, "I'm sorry, but there is literally no room for this and I will have to give it away."
Personally, I would much rather have colourful iTunes cards. Or buy me a Drobo drive. Or chip in towards my "iPad Pro/Cintiq" fund. (Though we all know I'd rather have an iPad Pro) What I really adore is irresponsibility money. Cash (or credit) on hand to have FUN with. Get myself a little luxury.
Or bath bombs. I really love bath bombs. No more bar soap, I have enough to last me a lifetime. Bubble bath - yes. Bath crystals - yes. Bar soap... allow me to show you my complete collection.
Signing me up with a literary agent is gold star material and possibly out of your reach. I know where the limits lie.
The good news is that the shower wall tiles are now mildew-free. The grout has minimal grey-ish staining, which might wear off with further applications of shower paste. And the bottom course of tiles is darker from extended algae, but I'm betting another dose will do the trick.
Meanwhile - I have to get on with things!