Deadlines, shmeadlines.....

Predictably, my carefully crafted project management schedule has blown out of the window.  

Of course I knew that would happen..... it always does.

On the plus side, ALL of the 'stuff' from the workroom is now spread liberally throughout the house.  Which leaves the storage units still in situ, so that I can paint the cupboard doors.

Exhibit A - one set of base unit doors in their 'before' state.....

  
Exhibit B - same unit after first coat of chalk paint.....

I naievely thought that each door would take around 10 minutes to paint but getting into all the mouldings means they take around half an hour.  With 10 doors in total that's 5 hours.

I need to apply a second coat today, then tomorrow, wipe and buff with clear wax.

So that's my afternoon spoken for.......

It's official......

It's official.  I am a slattern. 

slat·tern 

noun

1. a slovenly, untidy woman or girl.

2. a slut; harlot.

And before you ask, I refer to the first definition.  Obviously.

I expect each region has its own word(s) for such a person..... my Scottish Grannie would have referred to her as a 'clarty besom'.

Don't get me wrong.  I like things as clean, neat and tidy as the next person (so long as she's not a slattern) but I challenge anyone who has no pressing need to get behind built-in cupboards, heavy bookshelves and the like, for, let's say, 10 years, not to discover dirt and ming clinging to the skirting boards, walls and woodwork which have been inaccessible all that time.

True, I could have pulled out the storage units on wheels and had a good go behind it, or hauled out all the storage boxes under the desk to hoover, but...... I didn't.

I am shocked and appalled at the mess which is being revealed as the workroom is emptied.  

I blush to think what my Grannie would have said.  There are things growing and mutating under the storage units which would give primordial slime a run for its money.

It will take more than a bucket of sugar soap solution and a chamois leather to sort that lot out.

Not only that, whole legions of spiders, having been ousted from the moulds cupboard (and I feel I should perhaps clarify here that the moulds in question are plaster casting moulds, not the penicillin variety) have scuttled down the back of the cupboards and are massing there, waiting for me to start dismantling the run of units, at which point they will swarm out all over me.

I'm SO looking forward to that. 

 





 

More stuff I don't understand.......

If you've been trying to make your own black hole from Professor Hawking's handy recipe in my last post, you're probably coming up short trying to source an event horizon.  Let's face it, they're unlikely to be available on special offer in Tesco anytime soon.

If this is the case, I have one available for sale.  

One careful, lady owner.
Hardly used, as new.  
Colour - black.  Well to be scrupulously honest, it's the colour of the absence of light.  So blacker than black.
Buyer collects. You'll need a large vehicle.  REALLY large.
And fast.  VERY fast.

As of tomorrow I will have no more need of it, as I will be past the point of no return.

I could spend several hours attempting to explain this whole event horizon phenomenon but take it from me, you'd be none the wiser.  It's mostly gobbledygook.

I've been slowly approaching my personal event horizon all week, edging towards it, dreading the inevitable point where life as I know it ceases to exist and I enter a strange alternative universe in which I HAVE NO WORKROOM.

This altered state may only be temporary, but I haven't been without a dedicated place in which to do what I do for over 20 years.  I feel as though I should go onto some form of life support system (which may or may not contain wine) in order to get me through the next week or so.

Quite why this relatively short time without a place in which to work should so derail me I have no idea.  It's not as if I'm going to be sitting around twiddling my thumbs for the duration.  There are 1001 things to do, in sequence, all of which require focus and concentration so I will have no time to brood.

Equally confusing is the realisation that just as I'm on the threshold of losing my creative space, I suddenly have dozens of Really Good Ideas which I am desperate to explore.

What's that all about?!

Perhaps it's only when you're faced with losing something that its true worth is revealed.  

Blimey..... astrophysics AND philosophy in one brief blog post.  So much for the internet being 99% rubbish or cats.....

 

Astronomical anomaly.......

I've long suspected that the workroom might contain a black hole, into which all the stuff I'm ever looking for disappears.

However, having spent several hours this morning clearing yet more shelves, cupboards and worktops, I've been forced to reassess my opinion.

I am now convinced that the room is a portal to a white hole..... the opposite of a black hole, which spews out 'stuff' then collapses.

Having been steadily emptying the room for what feels like forever, every time I turn my back on a cleared space, I find it mysteriously fills up again.

I'm finding stuff I never knew existed...... how can that happen?

It's also baffling that such a small room can hold so much..... it's like a Tardis (another impossible anomaly).  Space elsewhere in the house is gradually filling up with workroom paraphernalia, which is taking up exponentially more space outside the room than it did within it.  How can that happen?

In other news, Small Dog has finally woken up to the fact that things are afoot and we are approaching our very own event horizon.  As a result she has started pacing from office to workroom, staring dolefully at me as I trundle around with armfuls of stuff.

She's only really content when everyone is in the same room so she can keep an eye on them.  Perhaps she's worried that she might miss out on a tasty treat if she doesn't follow me around, which is hard to credit, given that she's had breakfast and lunch already today.

Incidentally, it has been drawn to my attention that there hasn't been much emphasis on making things recently.  That is a good point, well made, so should you wish to make your very own black hole, here's the recipe.

Just sayin'.......
 
 

Doing the happy dance.....

Every year, about this time, I bemoan my lack of backbone in knuckling down to complete the annual accounts so that we can submit our tax returns.

I habitually bang on, and on, and on, and on about how much I dislike it, all the strategies I employ in order to avoid it, my rampant dyscalculia and post pictures of the drifts of paperwork which litter the desk and floor during the process.

But this year is different.

They're done and dusted.  

Not much wailing and gnashing of teeth. 
Hardly any no melodramatic throwing myself across the desk, sobbing in despair. 
Just a teeny bit of no flouncing out of the room in a massive strop with myself for being so pants with numbers.

So there.

If you feel deprived of the experience of a grown woman breaking down in tears you can enter 'tax' in the search box on the right you'll come across loads of past posts documenting my stellar failures year on year.

Honestly, I don't know what I used to make such a fuss about.

So to fill the void left from the absence of all of the above, and because I take absolutely no delight in robbing loyal blog readers of an opportunity to titter at my misfortune, here's a neat illustration of schadenfreude.....

I shall be fashionably late......

Following hot on the heels of the serendipitous find in my last post, I discovered today that there is no way my workroom will be ready for the 'first night' on 12 July.

To say that this is a bit of a blow is an understatement.... I had been banking on it being done and dusted by then, instead of which it may drag on for up to a further week!

The hiatus has been caused by a delay in our house renovation works, which have been put back again and are now due to start at the end of the first week in July.

*frustrated sigh*

So now I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place.  Do I go ahead regardless and completely empty the workroom so that I can get on with the redecoration, which will mean that it will be out of commission for two weeks instead of just one (which, incidentally, is bad enough!)?

Or do I hang fire for another week until the work starts as originally planned?

A week more or less may not seem like much, but every day that the workroom is out of commission means that the business is effectively closed.  Not only will nothing be created, but all of our stock will be packed away and difficult to access as the contents of the room will be scattered throughout the rest of the house, wherever there's a bit of spare space.

Right now I'm inclined to just bit the bullet and clear everything out at the end of this week, leaving me plenty of time to get the room cleaned, painted, carpet lifted etc etc etc.  These things always take far longer than anticipated.  Of course the other side of that coin is that we will 'lose' the sitting room, dining room and two of the bedrooms.  If things get really bad we can always decamp to the caravan, which would please Small Dog no end.

So, I shall be fashionably late to the Blog Party, and the grand reveal of my revamped workroom.

In the meantime I urgently need to make a project management flow chart in lieu of actually doing any work.....

 

 

Serendipity......

Regular readers will know that I'm a great believer in happenstance and serendipity. 

Regular readers will also be aware that I'm one of the world's foremost procrastinators and have the questionable ability to put things off almost indefinitely.

So when I came across THIS it seemed destined for me. 

It should be just the spur I need to get my new, improved workroom done and dusted, always assuming that the house works start on schedule.