Posted in Minimalism, Moving, Uncategorized, Visa

Curate & donate

My donation box, my very messy and I-probably-can’t-lift-that heavy cardboard box of just some of our excess belongings. I have to tell you we’ve taken two car loads to the charity shop already, and we are nowhere near finished.

I feel lighter, yet the burden of knowing that it’s the tip of the iceberg is rather daunting.

Now it has just occurred to me that my lifelong habit of procrastination is another symptom of a hoarding personality. Put off dealing with that bill, applying for that visa (oh, that’s a whole other story, I could write a book about my passport, citizenship and visa debacles), all the ‘I’ll deal with that later’ clutters up later.

Before you know it, there are dozens of things you need to take care of urgently, which adds to stress and has the knock on effect of meaning that today’s small things will become tomorrow’s emergencies.

It’s like hoarding responsibilities, little jobs that, if done now will simplify later. Dealing with mail, emails, cleaning tasks, whatever it is, dealing with them now can be like a weight lifted. Leaving them to fester, as I do, just means when I finally get a few hours at home, there are many tasks waiting to be dealt with.

The *thief of time? Maybe it’s hoarding.

*Amended typo. Colour me horrified, being a card carrying member of the Grammar & Spelling Police.

Posted in Insomnia, Travel, Visa


Yup. I could almost guarantee it. About 3 or 4 weeks before a move my brain just hits a road block and I either can’t get to sleep at all, or I wake up in the wee hours of the morning and only manage to finally drop off just before the alarm goes off. 

It’s brutal. Of course it comes at a time when I’m mega-busy with work, a son taking A levels, husband working away full time and another international move to organise. 

I can’t complain and I’m not: the packers pack, my husband is paving the way in the new place and getting on with it, dashing all over the UK and Europe and still managing to get home most weekends (without complaining either): my son has one job at the moment so I’m leaving him to revise. We’re all busy.  

Today I was up to my knees in cobwebs and dust clearing some outside storage areas, but I felt ok about it, I got quite a lot done. I’m organised for Monday, got some paperwork to post out and emails to send but it’s organised. I even got one of my final Yoga papers written in preparation for finishing the 200 hour teacher training. 

As always, it’s the logistics that are tricky when moving countries. What to do with the pets is currently my dilemma. We’ve worked out how to get them from Paris to York, but not what to do with them during the move and the overnight in a hotel (that I’ve decided is going to be necessary). It’s all coming together…sort of. 

Yet here I am, 1:30. My alarm would normally go off in 4 hours and I havent slept a wink. They say screens don’t help but I avoided them for hours before bedtime, made no difference at all. Postponing the alarm to the latest possible time that I can, whilst still getting to work on time. 

I suppose I am anxiously awaiting a decision on my visa, so that could have a bearing on it. I’ve tried chamomile tea, breathing exercises, Reiki, counting sheep. I lied, I didn’t try counting sheep. But I’ve featured a picture of one anyway. 

Let’s hope sleep comes soon, I’m turning off the screen again.