Lost

passport

This weekend I had to face up to a sorry fact: I had lost my passport.

My passport lives in an important drawer, full of important things. The thing is, even though that’s where it ALWAYS is, that’s the one place I knew it wasn’t. I’d checked. This was bad news.

It was one of those nagging concerns that I had been ignoring for a month, two months, three months…but now I’d booked a holiday and needed to sort this out.

So at the weekend I had one aim: find the bloody thing. In the process, I realised how many areas of the house were now so much easier to search, since I’d thrown away so much of my junk.

Sadly there were still too many places still rammed with crap and it took until Sunday evening before I finally found the damn thing in a bag I’d taken on my last holiday.

But it did make me think long and hard about the end goal – of a house that just works, that functions without me having to spend hours of my life filing stuff away, sorting stuff out and rooting through it all. A house where all the things are important things, not just the bits and bobs in that one drawer.

Leave a Reply