Reluctant adulting

Adulting isn't something I often choose to do! In my professional life, it was a given. In my wider family life, it was often thrust upon me in terms of being a carer. At home, I'm the one who takes responsibility for all the dreary things like paying the bills. So in the rest of my life where I can choose, I often don't choose adulting.

There are several clauses that I wouldn't dream of doing so I went for the paths of least resistance. The only one I could tick off straight away was laundry. I'm not keen on housework but don't mind laundry, in fact I find it quite satisfying - you get a lot of bang for your buck, especially when you put it away. No ironing though - life is far too short.

Other clauses were more painful and I had to make myself do them. Areas of chaos came first. My crockery cupboard was a source of stress and the cause of much swearing, with risk to life and crockery on every opening. So I bought a tiered plate stacker, emptied and cleaned the cupboard, sorted, got rid of stuff and reloaded in an organised way. It is a thing of beauty now and (some of) the swearing has stopped. I also sorted my craft shelves, again, a previous cause of stress and horror.

Smug from my successes, I did the whole dusting thing, no small task as my house always looks ready for Halloween. I tend to go with the Quentin Crisp school of housework, so this won't be repeated in a hurry.

School holidays mean more time so no excuse to dodge the bed-making and washing-up clauses. Two more ticks and only one to go.

I went for the bike clean. I checked the chain (no oil needed) and tyres (ditto). There was nothing left to do but take it for a spin and enjoy the sunshine. And so I did!