On the one hand, I’ve nearly got 100 bags out of the house already. On the other, it just seems to be highlighting just how very far I’ve got to come.
Sometimes, I’m enthused and determined and I will get this mess sorted. But others I freeze in utter despair and overwhelm.
This is horrible. I live in horrible surroundings and it’s all my fault. And I just don’t know what to do about it.
If it was someone else I’d advise them that the only way to do it was bit by bit – the only way to eat an elephant is bite by bite, right?
But then I look around myself and it feels utterly impossible. That nothing other than a massive bulldozer could ever get this place sorted.
It makes me scared.