I’ve been quite jealous of Carole today, if I’m honest.
I was at work this afternoon, and she was at home pottering around and straightening things up, getting stuff sorted and preparing for her upcoming year in which no books will be purchased.
And I was at work wishing I was at home doing the same. Not the non-purchase of books thing, because that’s just crazy trains. But the sorting and straightening and getting things in order for the start of the new year. I even fancied sitting and going through all the books I have to read and making sure I know what’s what and vaguely promising to read them next year.
But there’s a few things we want to do next year, and at least one of them needs some sort of organised recording method.
And you know what that means.
I get to make a spreadsheet.
Filters and colours and conditional cells. Oh the whole kit and caboodle.
I wanted to do it all day while I was out, but when I get home in the evening, the last thing I want to do is make a spreadsheet so that we can track several nerd-ridden things we want to do next year in a sort of use-it-or-lose-it experiment.
I will do them. It’s just much more fun when someone else is also pottering around decluttering and doing things than it is coming home to find all the things they’ve got rid of or whatever that you couldn’t be a part of. In all honesty, I should take a lot of it out of the bag and say we still want it as Carole did that when I tried to remove a plethora of Clive Cussler novels from the house…
But I’m better than that.
And petty behaviour does not a spreadsheet of cookbooks (and one of board games) make. Not does coming home after a day at work.
There’s always tomorrow, though.