I seem to have done more than enough housework in the last few days to last an average lifetime. And yet it all needs doing again. It is demoralising. I am demoralised. It sounds as if I have had my morals physically removed, which I am sure is not quite right, but you get the point. Why someone with no morals should feel particularly fed up is a mystery to me, when you might have thought they would find it quite liberating to be freed from the shackles of polite society, but maybe there are some unpleasant drawbacks that are not immediately obvious.
It was all down to having work done on the kitchen – installation of a new boiler – which required a huge amount of clearing out of the kitchen cupboards in the immediate vicinity, along with substantial decluttering around all the radiators throughout the house, itself no trivial task. But after a day's worth of drilling and lifting floorboards and dismantling pipework (not by me, but by people who know how to do these things safely), everywhere was covered in dust. And all the old clutter is still waiting patiently to be put back where it belongs.
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