“Decluttering.” A glorious verb which I have come to appreciate more and more. There’s nothing like living with a clear mind or in a clean area. Here’s ten ways in which I like to bring myself back up when the clutter is weighing my mind down.

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Happy WA Day!! Yes, this is a day late. No, there was no way in hell that I could have posted this blog up yesterday. But we meet again, my faithful readers. I hope you are having a lovely long weekend, if you live in the Wild West. We’re a bunch of ragers here in Perth, don’t believe the rumours. The only thing “boring” in Perth is WHEN YOU GO TO A DRESS UP PARTY AND NO ONE ELSE IS DRESSED UP!

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9am- I woke up at 6am this morning and thought ‘crap, it’s almost time for work!!!’ No, fool, no. IT’S SATURDAY! Hell yeah, I live for Saturdays. Saturdays and food. My two favourite things. Anyway, I’m going to check my phone, be lazy and wait for the time to tick around for #SereneSaturday to begin. “#SereneSaturday ?” I hear you ask. It means, Saturday morning yoga, brunch and a day of leisure. Serenity now, am I right?

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8.30am- Good morning and welcome to FRIDAYYYY! Yes, this work week is coming to an end. It’s been a good morning so far, I treated myself to some Muzz Buzz. It takes me about half an hour to drive to work so I love sipping on a vanilla latte when I get the odd chance. I used to be addicted to getting Muzz Buzz on the way to work and so now I have to only treat myself before I wreck myself, ya know what I’m saying? I’ve got some work to do this morning, so let’s get this party started! *opens emails.*

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7.30am- Hello, Moody Magda is back today. Look, to be fair, I’m not irrationally, or unexplainably moody. Anyway, in saying that, perhaps I chose the wrong week to do this, because I’m not exactly dishing out rainbows and butterflies, am I? But, this is real and so Ima keep it real.

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8.44am– My hands are freezing! I can barely type. I’m taking just a couple quick minutes to start today’s blog off, before I have to go cover someone’s class. So I woke up, checked my phone, watched some vlogs on YouTube and made the yummiest breakfast ever-fetta and avocado on toast! But I’m hungry again. Ofcourse. #FoodIsLife. No Magda, control your animal urges.

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6am- My alarm goes off and my emotions are mixed between being grateful to be alive and “F*&^ this f*&^%*&*^ sh&%!” So anyway, I check my phone with one eye barely open and promptly snooze for 20 minutes. Then, I force myself to wake up. I wash my face, brush my teeth and praise the heavens above that I had a shower before bed because it feels like it’s -20 degrees out there. As I look in the mirror, I notice that I have 3 heads today- my own and two pimples, who have decided that the left side of my face is a nice home for them. Long story short, the next twenty minutes are spent trying to make myself look like I’m not still going through puberty. I promptly discover, (as I do every morning), that no amount of NARS, Loreal or Maybelline is going to make my nose or butt smaller. Off to work!

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While I was eliminating bundles of clothes, (and thinking about how annoying it was that I didn’t have enough room for them all), my grandma commented on how during the war, she would rely on parcels of second hand clothes to survive. It was a gentle reminder for me. I don’t come from a wealthy background, but the fact that I was complaining about having too many clothes is a sign of… well… It’s a sign of being a spoilt little bitch, to be honest. What a first world problem.

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‘Oldest child syndrome’, ‘middle child syndrome’, ‘youngest child syndrome’; whatever you want to call it- we’re all stereotypes of our birth order. My sister and I have a bi-polar relationship. One minute we’ll be on the phone laughing and excited to see each other. Then I see her walking up to me wearing my favourite jeans and the storm clouds roll in. Apparently I make her mad too. That’s news to me because as far as I’m concerned, I’m always respectable, responsible and overall a perfect role model. Wait. Is having that opinion of myself a symptom of ‘oldest child syndrome?’ Can’t be, I’m always right. Continue reading →