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The Iron-On Line
September 8th, 2012
11:49 pm


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The beginning of the school year counts as a new year, doesn't it? I want to make some ... well, I hestitate to call them resolutions, but the intent is basically the same. Every day, I want to try to do one thing that will please social services and the council, one thing that will please the jobcentre advisors, and one thing that will please me.

Social services and the council, at least up until they closed my file and moved on to other things, were "concerned" about the state of my flat. It is, by just about any measure, a horrendous mess. So I'm going to try to clean it up, slowly but surely. Wash a few dishes, tidy the settee, clear enough floor to break out the mop. I don't expect to have an Ideal Home, or even a council-approved home, any time soon, but I can use the imaginary council in my head to spur me on.

The jobcentre advisors, as you may be able to guess, want me to work towards getting a job, unless I decide that I am so completely non-functional I should apply for disability benefits. A couple of months ago, I was cheerfully entertaining the prospect of looking for part-time work while trying to move the business plan forward. Now ... from what I hear, drinking a bottle of wine in a night and contemplating suicide at random sober intervals doesn't render a person unfit for work in the current government's understanding, but I have a feeling it would count against me in any employer's eyes. Assuming I got that far.

But given a choice between trying to convince the assessors that I'm not up to working and jumping through the jobseeking hoops, I'm betting that jobseeking may prove less upsetting. So I'm going to do what I can to look for work, prepare myself for work, or whip my vague business idea into shape1. Some days, the effort might well be purely token, but this could be good practice for filling in a jobseeker's diary.

Pleasing myself might be the hardest part of all. Things that were once a pleasure no longer seem to provide any return for the effort I have to put in, and I don't even seem to be getting a sense of achievement from doing stuff these days. Buying books or tools makes me happy, but I rarely have the spare money. Haircuts feel wonderful, but I don't think they would if I didn't allow a decent growth interval. But perhaps if I lower my standards and count finding a new video or rereading a favourite book as a pleasure, I'll start to feel better.

Depression is not a good state to be making resolutions in. But I'm making them anyway. I'm sure that says something about me.

1I rarely elaborate on my business idea, not because I think someone else will steal it, but because it's so vague that I'm afraid people will laugh at me or explain in excruciating detail why it couldn't possibly work. I know that's a barrier I have to overcome eventually, but I'm not ready for it yet.

(4 comments | Leave a comment)

[User Picture]
Date:September 9th, 2012 12:13 pm (UTC)
Have you tried Unfuck Your Habitat? It's domestic stuff for people who aren't domestic and a lot of it is geared towards the sort of people (like me) who get overwhelmed by the prospect of a cleaning marathon but can cope with doing a bit of sorting and wiping while tea is brewing.
[User Picture]
Date:September 10th, 2012 01:15 pm (UTC)
OMG, I was just going to suggest that. I love it so. It took me a long time just reading it to actually get a little bit on board, but I am very pleased with the improvements I have managed.
[User Picture]
Date:September 14th, 2012 06:07 pm (UTC)
I had a feeling they were all about decluttering, which I run away from in abject terror, but I took a look and I'm already feeling inspired. Not up to any of the challenges at the moment, but I'm already making my bed (excuses are boring) and I unfucked a whole box of crap the other night.

So thanks for the tip!
[User Picture]
Date:September 10th, 2012 06:47 pm (UTC)
What a marvelous book title! My habitat needs some unfucking this morning for sure... I just keep putting it off because it is so completely fucked.
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