I want time. I want time in which to tidy. To tidy my life away in drawers. I crave an order that I don’t seem to be able to impose. I wish to go through every drawer, give away what I no longer need and neaten each and every object. But there is no time in which to do this. Work must take priority, even though to do this tidying would make me feel lighter. I know this. One day, eh?
