Sunday, 3 January 2010

In which I have a plan

I'm on the train back to Brussels, zipping through miles of glittery, frosted Lille slagheaps, feeling a little queasy after another long, funny evening of too much food and trying to match someone nearly twice my height drink for drink (deeply unwise. I really need to do something about the 'Northerners can hold their drink' pride thing). I intend to stay in Belgium for the whole of January. Plan: to placate the ING (with human sacrifice if necessary), keep my job, eat green things, write like a demon and possibly even move the huge piles of carpet offcut from the landings where they trip me up every time I go downstairs. Worthy. Practical. Virtuous. Very, very dull. This will doubtless end in tears as my boredom threshold is disgracefully low, but I am taking radical measures. I will be leaving my credit cards in the custody of a responsible adult and forcing myself to live on Colruyt tinned tuna, Knorr soups and wilting endive. The weepette will have to come to terms with the new austerity regime too, after two weeks in the fleshpots of Drogenbos in dog borstal. No more foie gras on toast for breakfast, Oscar.

I have only spent 20 minutes in the Salmon Palace since 19th December. It will be odd to go back and see if it feels anything like home; like somewhere to hole up and wait out January with miso soup and DVDs under a pile of blankets, or like an arbitrary, anonymous space with ill-thought out piles of my stuff in every corner. I need to try and force myself to hang my pictures, build the last, reproachful flatpack, buy an iron, try and cook something other than toast. It's not exactly a resolution, but I would love not to be quite as scrambling and chaotic this year. I have a filing system (well, by 'system' I mean a slightly wonky ring binder) and every intention of using it. I am filled with January resolve and puritanical zeal. I give it a week.

What I will definitely do, however, is take some amusing photos of the box of clothes I have finally sorted out to ebay (having no wardrobe is very galvanising). They are a hilarious catalogue of my fashion mistakes of the last 10 years. I am snickering to myself thinking of the freakish Martian emperor Pleats Please outfit and the many boxy beige suits. Also, since I still don't have a remotely practical mirror, the photos will probably be taken standing on the tumble drier. Think of it as my New Year gift to you. If I actually manage to get my dirty, lazy arse off this chair, it might even be tonight.


Heather said...

shall look forward to the photos with glee

the polish chick said...

ah, i must get rid of several pairs of beautiful high heeled boots. this is the year i face the fact that heels are not for me. i am tall, i walk freakishly long distances and the combination of these two factors means sensible (but sexy, if i can manage it) flats.

bring on the pics.

WV: canso - i canso get rid of useless stuff and become a better human being as a result.

Lisa-Marie said...

Happy New Year Waffle!

I hope you are able to achieve all of your reslutions, and look forward to reading about your adentures this year. You are a brae cookie, and your wirting is nothing if not entertaining, and it has been a pleasure to read(except when you are sad obviously!) xxx

emily said...

oh oh oh polishchick - what shoe size are you and please put them on ebay?! :)

the polish chick said...

emily, i am a large slavic woman, shoe size 42. unlikely to fit most dainty ladies out there.