The unbearable burden of chores

So right about now I should be writing about how the French apparently don't breastfeed their babies unless they're hardcore hippies and the Italians do but stay in hiding for three months, at which point they head outdoors and transition their children directly onto horsemeat. However, I just don't have the stamina or enthusiasm. The reason? I've just written a list of all the mundane things that need to be done in our house and the hamster-wheel drudgery of it all is sucking out my will to live.

These are things that need doing because they haven't been done for a long, long time. They are chores that get pushed to the bottom of the pile because they fall into the 'Not Urgent, Not Important' quadrant of life. But it doesn't mean that they can be ignored forever. And by virtue of the fact that they haven't been done, they are using up space in my brain (not to mention my cupboards) and I feel as though both need a good decluttering.

I would like to hire someone to take my list and do it all for me. I think they would charge rather a lot, but I really would seriously consider having someone do it all. Know anyone?

Here's the list - have a strong coffee now as you might fall into a boredom induced coma:

Take clothes to charity
Sell suitable things on eBay (this involves washing, ironging, photographing, uploading, posting)
Sort our airing cupboard/towels/linen – chuck old, buy new
Sort out toy cupboard incl toy box in boy's room
Sort out photos lying all over drawing room floor (as they have been since February this year)
Do up spare bedroom
Put new pictures in frames/hang others already done
Put up notice board in office (stick one bazillion school notices on it)
Sort out filing trays in office
Get rid of Chris' crap in office (note to self: do this while he's not looking)
Sort out inside of office cupboards
Get video camera fixed. Film children before they stop being cute.
Chuck out old clothes in my cupboard
Sort out Tupperware cupboard - buy more tupperware (you can never, ever have enough)
Sort out CDs in drawing room (let's play find the right CD for the CD cover)
Get new rechargeable batteries for camera
Get tumble dryer repaired
Get handyman to finish skirting in spareroom, plus plugs fittings
Get handyman to fix hole in kitchen wall
Get handyman to fix malfunctioning radiator
Get boiler serviced
Get more oil
Get car serviced
Sort out hedge issue with neighbours

This is a full time job right? Taking care of all this crap. Not to mention the day to day cleaning, washing, cooking, ironing delight that takes place. The fact that I've sorted out the magazines in my office, gone through my knicker drawer and done the kid's clothes cupboard recently are all steps in the right direction, but they feel rather insignificant when placed next to the Everest of chores that remains.

The time it's taken me to type this blog, I probably could have sorted out the bag of gift wrap and cards (meant to be my organised way of being prepared for any last minute birthday surprises) that seems to have exploded in my office (that's another one to add to the list) but the I-can't-be-arsed feeling has a pretty firm grip on me tonight and it's steering me towards the wine chiller and TV remote control. I really to need to have a stern word with myself. If I could kick myself in the butt I would but I fear I'd pull a hamstring. That would be because I've still not done my fitness video either.

Sigh.

The Business Link Man is coming. I'm a bit twitchy

I have a vast amount of work to do but I can't settle down and do it. That's because I have a man from Business Link coming to see me in about 15 minutes time. Since setting up my little business 2 years ago, I've yet to get any real expert advice so I'm a little nervous in case the man falls off his chair laughing at me when I start describing the way I work. I think they're trained not to do that. Or at least I hope they are, even if inside they are tutting and clucking at the idiot small business owners they have to meet.

I've written a list of all the things I want to ask him, but I fear that the allocated hour won't get us through more than the top 3 items. I've also printed off my business plan, such as it is, and I've vaccuumed the downstairs bit of the house, put away the toys and cleaned the kitchen in the hope that it projects a professional 'office' environment. Ordinarily I would take him into our drawing room - which is the smart grown up room that is never used - but it is currently filled with piles of clothes destined for a women's refuge shelter and eBay sales. Plus there's the start of a 1000 piece puzzle scattered on the coffee table and which is likely to stay that way until the children leave home. I won't show him my study which looks as though the taliban have been carrying out bomb detonation training classes in it.

I've put some lipstick on and changed out of my slippers and into real shoes. I'm all twitchy. I keep telling myself that this isn't a test. It's not the taxman. He's just a nice government-funded expert to help me grow my business. Yet my heart is racing. I'm not sure what I'm more afraid of. Him telling me that I've been doing everything wrong. Or him telling me that I've been doing everything right and now here's another million things to do. Because I'm just not sure when I'm going to be able to do them. Ordinarily I would say between 2 and 3am, but son 2 seems to have taken that slot with his nightly birthday cake nightmares. Every night he wakes up in a vile temper, flinging his moo moo cow across the room and shouting that I've made the wrong birthday cake. Yesterday I was told that it had to be a dinosaur cake, despite it being a pirate party. I don't know how to make a dinosaur cake. However, I could stick the plastic dino toys into some buttercream icing atop a fairy cake. I wonder if that will cut it?

Sorry, I'm wibbling. Just nervous. Better get off blog and mentally prepare. Practice my birth breathing. Who would have thought it would come in handy so often?

Gutted

I'm sorry. More on tea sets. But I've been watching a lovely tea set on eBay for 10 days. An hour before the auction was due to end last night - with mine being the only bid - I went off to have a bath. By the time I came back, the auction was over and some sneaky bastard had outbid me. I am devastated. It is after all only a second hand tea set but still, it was meant to be mine. Sniff.

Sigh.

Sniff. Sniff.

Sigh.

Guess I should get on and do some work now. Speaking of which, it is an absolutely gorgeous day, despite my not winning the tea set, and working in the house just seems plain wrong. So I might attempt to put a bikini on and work in the garden. Two downsides of course: A) should the neighbours see me, they might call the police to report that Mr Blobby has taken residence in our garden and appears to be nicking the computer; B) the sunshine prevents me from seeing the computer screen which does somewhat hamper me getting any work done.

But given that the forecasters have said June is the only month that's likely to feel remotely like summer, I'd better make the most of it.

Aaah. I do love home office working (particularly as there are no co-workers to spy on me as I search eBay for more tea sets).

Toodle pip!