I still haven't shed any tears, I'm proud of myself.
Although I could quite easily cry at the sight that greeted me when I opened the garage door to have a go this evening. I spent 60 minutes sweating and swearing, dragging crap out onto the driveway. I burrowed a path to the back where I found about 20 bags of clothes. Mine and his. Various sizes. I fully intend to bin his, or try one of those cash for clothes places, but not sure about mine. None of the stuff fits. It's clothes ranging from size 12 to 20+. Some is brand new. I would love to try and get into it again. Plus I have the space in my new house. Yes fuck it decision made, I'm keeping it.
So I sweat and swore some more and dragged the majority if it back in again. Not very productive but I had a huge pizza takeaway to pat myself on the back.
And now I have to get up at 5am to go to go to the horses in the morning because I skived off tonight to eat piza.
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