On the inside of my closet door I have a list. Every time I fetch something in my closet, it looks at me. For now – it might change, I know – it smiles at me when I see it. It’s a list of things I want to do in 2013.
I didn’t really want to make a list, but I ended up doing it. As the new year came closer and closer, I found myself thinking about all the things I wanted to make an effort to try to get done. One of them was work really hard on building a wardrobe. I have wanted to do this before – and failed – but I still want to do it and as I began wondering what pieces I ought to buy, what colour etc., I figured the right place to remind myself of wanting to do this had to be the inside of my closet door. And then other things came along.
I am not fooling myself. I know that this list can make me seriously mad in March when I have to admit that I have gotten nowhere, but I made it anyway.
- New job
- Blog in Danish
- New winter coat
- Christmas saving
- Follow and finish running programme
- Clean bathroom weekly
- Photograph, 52 themes
- Read 12 books
- Put apartment up for sale
- Spend a night away from home with J
- Write 52 memories
- Make an effort
- Build a wardrobe
- Cook 52 new recipes (preferably from already owned cookbooks)
- Visit 4 museums, 4 exhibitions.
And that’s it. I might come up with more, but for now these are the words hanging on the inside of my closet door.
I don’t know if I owe anyone an apology or and explanation for signing off and then returning as if nothing had happened, but if I do, here we go:
I signed off because I needed to breathe. December was in no way an easy month and I felt trapped and sad and basically couldn’t see any light anywhere. Because most of it is down to my job, I couldn’t really write about it here, so I decided to quit.
The minute I quit I felt as if I was missing a piece. I thought of things I wanted to write. This space is a way of getting things out of my head, of debating with myself, of writing for my own pleasure not caring whether it’s read or not.
I allowed myself to return, promising myself I would keep up as long as I enjoyed it and felt I got something from it, so those last words weren’t the last ones. I missed this space too much.