What every twenty nine year old with thirty days left until she is no longer in her twenties does... re assess her life.
Re assessing comes in many forms. Sometimes that could be tears, sometimes panic, sometimes excitement and joy... On the other days leading up to this milestone I have been bursting with anticipation. The idea of being a real life grown up has me chomping at the bit. I always felt like the best years of my life were going to be in my thirties... and I think I could be right.
I am in no way shunning my twenties. My twenties involved some life challenges that made me stronger, some awful junk food that made me dribble, some late nights that hold memories for days. My twenties involved me heading to Thailand four times, Mylasia, a few girlie holidays that I hadn't done in my teens, Normandy, Toronto, Niagra Falls, Cinque Tere, Rome, Ischia, Los Angeles, Croatia, drove across Europe and stopped in Holland, Venice, Germay.
I moved from Berks to London, lived with girls, lived with a boy, went through one of those long term break ups, met the love of my life, became an aunty more than once, wrote two pilot shows, acted on stage several times, on screen a few. I ate , I drank, I started drinking stronger coffees than latès, began craving olives, started listening to classical and chill FM and radio 4, started filling in an actual appointment diary and began growing up... slightly.
But as I approach the big THREE O, I become aware of all the non grown up things I am yet to do. Like buy a house, get engaged, have a child (everyone on Facebook is doing it so surely so should I be) I am yet to have a 'propper' job that earns me a regular income that allows me to eat out at fancy restaurants every week and go on random long weekend city breaks. I still waste money buying coffees out instead of saving it for a grown up winter coat, I still forget to take off my make up at night, and sometimes find it really hard to just get up and have a shower some mornings. I still leave things I need to do until the last minute and avoid doing my tax return for a full year until they send me a letter. I still forget to pay bills, have my card declined when buying toothpaste, I still wear odd socks and miss matching underwear. I still wear knickers with pictures of sheep on and have bras that have gone grey and are no longer white. I still buy crappy costume jewellery and clothing I only wear once, even though I swear to myself I will only by classic pieces from now on.
I'm torn between a night in, with a bottle of red...or a shot and 'two stepping' to some nostalgic music like 'garage' Sometimes I still ball my eyes out to my mum and other times I am so wise and grown up that I surprise myself (this may be rare but it's happened)
So I am nearly 30. I have 30 days... I have reflected. I have obsessed. I have concluded... decluttering is the answer.
So yesterday involved sorting out my wardrobe. The joy of this wore off within the first twenty minutes when all was spewed across my bed and I wanted to rewind time and leave my wardrobe looking the unorganised mess it was.
But I persevered...
I put everything I owned in piles. Skirts, trousers, t shirts etc... I then picked, what for me were my essential items. Dark blue skinny jeans, boyfriend jeans, grey T's, blazer, black cami, white shirt, and hung those up. I kept adding with items that I wear alot, or that come in useful for certain events like, weddings, people's 30ths, baby showers.
What I had left on the bed I divided into ebay/charity shops/bin piles. Then with what I had left after that I had to decide if I had worn it in the last year. If not... eBay/charity pile it went. If I had, but not alot, I added it to a section of wardrobe where I would decide in 2 months if I went to wear it at all. If not... it was gonna be a gonner.
10 hrs later, all e bay pics taken, piled and wrapped in tissue, stored away, eBay items ready to go when sold. Charity bag stuff neatly folded and other rubbish thrown in a bag.
The result... I feel decluttered, relaxed, sophisticayed and grown up.
Below are pictures of what I envisaged before I started this decluttering journey.
My room does not look like this below...
but come on...
I'm not 30 yet.