With the odd non-life-changing exceptions, I might as well copy and paste last month’s “progress” report.  I haven’t ruled out changing my resolutions for next month, a half-year reassessment, but going by my, “Ooops, forgot I was supposed to be doing that” mindset with this, the odds are high I’ll forget.  But do note the perfectly timed 31st of the month post, the impressive timing of which I put down to the Bullet Journal obsession I started in May, a far bigger success story than this resolution list.

  1.  One new country.  Been there/done it three times.  Of course I haven’t over-achieved again!
  2. Website with clear purpose.  I got into the website, progress, and I actually wrote something for it, almost unprecedented progress.  Maybe this list is going to go better than I initially thought.
  3. Quit steno.  Yeah, right.  I did look at two job adverts and dismiss them out of hand, pre-empting the dismissal I would have had inflicted on me had I applied based on my questionably relevant experience.
  4. Lose 14lb.  Don’t be ridiculous, the struggle is in maintaining January levels.
  5. New 365 Instagram.  Done/doing travel and portrait posts, though I peaked earlier in the month while I was working abroad.
  6. Read 12 books.  I read one book, White Masks, by Elias Khoury, translated from Arabic and set in Lebanon.  I found its content quite consuming and the detail of a new kind of everyday life continuing during the civil war was disturbing.  Very atmospheric, thought-provoking book.  For my enjoyment, which equates to how happy it made me feel, only a 5/10, but for the quality of the writing and narrative, probably 8/10.  I have now started The White Tiger by Aravind Adiga.
  7. Mobile on silent more.  Still doing well with this.
  8. Reduce amount of clothes.  I fear a few incoming that haven’t been matched with outgoing.  I will redress the balance in June.
  9. More picnics.  I was given a cool cool bag for my birthday and used it the next day for a picnic on the beach.  It may only have been one picnic, but that is “more”!
  10. More fish. Four fishy meals in the photos and I only took the photos because of the dishes’ spectacularness, ie I had more than four fish meals but I actually photographed four because they were such good meals, including a home made salt and pepper squid with fried bream.  Definitely more fish this month.  And, ahem, yes, there were two very fancy restaurants there, The Ivy and Cinnamon Club, both of which were birthday treats, I feel I should point out.
  11. Tax in May.  My accountant resurfaced, I have my paperwork back from last year and I am in the process of getting new Government Gateway access codes and passwords.  A suggestion of progress if I ignore the May element.
  12. Christmas shopping by November.  Pff.

I am perilousl­­­­y close to smugness as, yes, I can now reel off the 199 capital cities I decided to learn for June’s challenge. 

Not only do I now know the capitals but, after about two weeks of not being able to retain the names of about a third of the capital cities, I realised that attempting to establish a photographic memory was futile.  I then started to be a bit more creative with my connections.  For example, Palau, being an island in the midst of the Pacific must surely be muddy, thus the capital is Negerulmud.  Similarly, I could not get Podgorica in my head as being the capital of Montenegro.  In the end, I got it with “-gro” as being key and I did grasp that the capital was then PodGORica.  Tenuous at best, but it worked.

I am ludicrously pleased with myself and have been informing people of the capital of countries they mention.  I suspect this could be considered annoying.  Bring on the quizzes and obscure capital questions … while I can still remember them, rather than just remember that I used to know them.

At the beginning of June, I convinced myself I would never be able to retain the countries and corresponding capitals, let alone spell them.  Around about week two/three, it suddenly clicked into place and I have enjoyed the learning process, despite it being a straightforward, uncomplicated memory challenge.

DSC05651For July, I want to deal with another kind of photographic memory, as I plan to sort through a massive box of my photos.  I have photos in various places but, as this box is so big, I want to be fairly realistic and just aim to sort through that.  That will mean sorting them into categories, most likely: throw; put in an album; frame; keep in packets.  I am not going to aim to do the framing, album-making, etc, by the end of July, just get them ready. 

In an ideal world, this will lead to the rest of my photos being organised at a later date and some DSC05650albums/pictures created.  Unfortunately, I predict bouts of melancholy about the passing of time, how slim/young/carefree etc I used to be.  However, a bonus would be to get rid of the enormous box they’re in to make some room in the far-too-full cupboard (I may even be shamed into addressing the accessibility issues with the cupboard) in which it currently occupies almost half the spare floor space.   


{18/10/2012}   Cleaning cars

I cleaned my car, a full valet, the other day.  In the two and a bit years I’ve had her, she’s never looked so good, though it annoys me to see that she has a few new scrapes that I know I didn’t do.  Well, the main ones are on the front bumper, a selection of different paints having been left behind.  Incompetent parking, and I reiterate not me!  But the biggest surprise wasn’t the beauty of my shiny pistachio gold car after a thorough valet, rather how complicated it is buying car cleaning products.

It sounds like I’ve never washed a car before but I’ve washed mine a fair few times, it’s just difficult where I live and would involve a bucket rather than hosepipe and I have no way of getting electricity from the second floor down to the road.  I used my mum’s hosepipe and vacuum cleaner to do the job and I then took photos of my shiny car as I am going to attempt to sell her, hence the full valet rather than the usual quick wash, usually brought on by an excesses of seagull poo splattering the paintwork.

In return for mum hosting the valet, I decided to buy a selection of cleaning products.  Nothing – nothing – prepared me for the amount of bottles, wipes, clothes, brushes, etc, on sale for the purpose of cleaning a car.  It was a daunting process and made me ten minutes late for meeting a friend, having initially had a good 15 minutes set aside for a slow shop and pootle, and even then had to be repeated for another c10-minute session another day.  I came away with a cleaner with turtle wax (usual stuff), a pack of three cloths (for the interior, hardcore exterior jobs and “velour”, which I have yet to find a use for seeing as I have no velour that I’m aware of – my seats are leather, don’t you know!), a cloth for windows, a drying cloth that’s supposedly better than a chamois (I love the smell of chamois leather, it can’t be good for me sniffing it as often as I do, hence the synthetic cloth), a sponge coated with a nice cleaning surface that apparently glosses the paintwork and is all attached to a handy glove and a brush for my alloys.  I was tempted to buy a dashboard spray scented with “new car” but I just knew it would make me sneeze furiously and wouldn’t have the same effect as, say, baking bread, ie a lovely smell that makes you feel good.

There is something for everything.  I was poised to buy some wipes that clean and nourish leather but knew my mum had some saddle soap, though in the end I thought a leather polish was a bit excessive; it’s not a Maserati being sold for obscene amounts of money.  Did you know that there are even special chemicals that promise to get rid of specific stuck on things so, yes, there is a cleaner that completely obliterates the carcases of dead flies and there is even one that gets rid of bits of tarmac.  Surely they aren’t kind on your paintwork?  There are also a variety of different sprays to enhance different parts of your car, such as blackening tyre sprays and alloy shiner.  Admittedly I did start off with my arms piled with wipes promising minimal effort for maximum benefit.  I realised after I had piled up leather wipes, dashboard wipes (I went for the “new car” aroma!), interior windscreen wipes, exterior windscreen wipes, trim wipes and alloy wipes that to clean the whole car in this manner would be a ludicrously expensive exercise, so I downgraded to the selection of cloths.  I might yet get a scented dashboard cleaner.

Believe it or not, I spent about an hour and 15 minutes valeting my car and I actually enjoyed it.  Though a minor paddy was only just averted when, while taking stylish photos of my pristine car, I knocked over a mug of tea that I had stupidly placed on the parcel shelf. Tea has the capacity to get everywhere and set me back a good few minutes!  Aha, maybe I will need some eau de voiture nouvelle after all!  Ho hum, point being it’s easy to get conned into buying a selection of products that promise so much to anyone wanting a super clean, new-looking car.

Yesterday, having repeatedly soaked and changed the water in a large tupperware box that had previously contained chilli con carne, I was overcome by how much I hate cleaning tupperware boxes that have that oily orange residue lining the inside and which makes the sponge orange and your hands greasy.  I always hope that soaking alone will miraculously clean away the horrible orange but it never does.  It is a job I particularly hate and, while I’d be happy never to wash up, more specifically it’s washing up orange stained tupperware that I hate.  So then I thought about other odd small things I particularly dislike doing.

I have always had a bit of a thing about wet hands and hair on my hands so removing hair from the plug hole is something I absolutely detest doing and I am quite pathetic about doing it.  But as I hate water backing up in the bath or wash basin when I know hair is the cause I feel the removal of hair is a regular necessity!  Anal?  Me?!

My laptop and PC keyboards get really grubby and I really don’t like them being so dirty but I really dislike cleaning keyboards as I can never get every nook and cranny cleaned and a thorough clean never means a satisfactory clean, which I find infuriating.

In my kitchen, a lot of my food stuff, storage containers, mixing bowls, etc, are on shelves rather than in cupboards.  Kitchens churn out grease and cleaning glass, china, tins, etc is something I really dislike doing.  All dust and floating bits get drawn to the grease that seems to fill the air and cover jars, etc, and I hate picking up a jar of, say, pasta and feeling the greasy, dusty jar.  But I also hate cleaning it as grease never comes off easily.

While I like rugs, vacuuming them is most unsatisfactory as I never seem to get all the bits out, particularly two woven rugs.  It would appear a recurring theme is that I don’t like chores that can’t be finished to perfection, or at least my not-quite-perfection standards.

I don’t like cleaning toilets but, far worse than toilets is cleaning baths.  Scrubbing and bending is probably what infuriates me about that chore and I also get a bit grossed out by scum marks and how much you sometimes have to scrub.

Another issue I have is with recycling.  I am quite good about separating things but my paper recycling is separate to cans, glass and plastics and I seem to accumulate an awful lot of paper and I have four different paper recycling bins and they get full and I get stressed about getting them downstairs and out on the right fortnight for recycling.  At present, it would take three up and downs my three flights of stairs to empty the house of paper recycling and this bothers me greatly.  Neurotic?!

Dusting.  It needs doing but it is tedious, makes me sneeze and I resent the whole process and, again, the fact you can never be dust free.  Especially with a cat in the house, though that’s more a fur issue!

And then I could go on and on and on about all the more normal chores that I hate but I suspect everyone feels the same about them!

{17/06/2012}   Chores

                I have spent my “quiet Sunday” largely doing chores.  I got up at about 6.45 this morning and since then, with breaks for breakfast and lunch, I have tidied, vacuumed, washed bathroom floors, cleaned, done three washes, shopped for food and car stuff, changed a light bulb in my car (not the simple job you’d expect), had lots of cups of tea, not one of which I’ve drunk while it was hot, yet still I have a long list of things to do.  Next on my list is the very messy job of transferring elderflower cordial into bottles and making a birthday tiramisu.  At least the tiramisu-making will allow me a few sponge finger treats!

                I don’t like doing chores on days off, I’d rather sneak the odd one in here and there so you almost don’t notice you’re spending time doing them.  Having got up early this morning, I did feel incredibly smug to have done so much before normal people would be out of bed though.  I work well in the morning, there was even a little part of me that quite enjoyed it.

However, I feel like I do far too many chores.  I have a notebook for To Do lists that is filling fast.  Why is there always so much to do?  I amaze myself that I get anything done as I have inherited lazy genes from somewhere down my family line – or maybe I am first generation lazy?

Now that I am sitting to write this, I fear my productivity levels have slumped along with my enthusiasm.  Right now, as reward for all my hard labour and for braving a big supermarket at Sunday lunch time, a hot mug of tea would go down a treat and perhaps a little snooze.

I often think about how privileged my generation and those younger than me are, we have so much equipment and technology to help us.  Yet still we have loads to do.  I suppose I could have a cleaner, do online shopping, take clothes to a laundrette … ah, yes, there is a way out.  But actually, I think I like some aspects of chores because there is usually a joyous sense of achievement at completing tasks or ticking off things to do on a list.  Plus, if I didn’t have such things to do I imagine I would be even more lazy than I am now, perish the thought.

I often think I would like to spend a month or so living like a Victorian.  I might just have managed three washes, a lengthy mangle session and hanging clothes out on the line in the time I’ve done all I have done today.  It shocks me that things I take for granted, like vacuum cleaners, washing machines, electric ovens, fridges, dish washers, kettles, etc didn’t used to exist, not to mention cars and an abundance of shops and groceries, all open on Sundays.  I am flagging big time now, I might manage the tiramisu then possibly a little nap!

Between April and December I regularly think about doing my tax return, it is a burdonsome niggle.  Last year I sent my tax return off in May, but still had jolts of, “Agh, I’ve got to do my tax … oh, I’ve done it” for the rest of the year.  I hate sorting receipts and paperwork, I mean really, really hate doing it.  I also don’t enjoy discovering that my annual earnings have been going down each year for the past few years.  Can someone (me) learn to be organised with money and financial paperwork, having displayed no obvious signs of having such tendencies?
I have a pile of receipts from the past year, relevant paperwork largely in the same area and a “special” book for writing receipt info in (I tried Excel but it wasn’t without issues and I’m sure it took a lot longer than my pen and paper approach).  As I think about it, I feel quite stressed.  Every year, after spending either a day (if I have a whole free day ahead of me, littered with tea breaks and all diversions that present themselves) or a series of days surrounded by papers and an air of chaos, I get it all sent out (I have an accountant to make it easier for me, but it’s this stage that I find the worst, but being self-employed and renting accommodation having an accountant is almost necessary – does that sound like an excuse?!).  I then create a system for receipts, bank statements, etc, and for up to three months I am organised.  Then suddenly it stops, well I stop.  Oh, I’m getting myself all wound up now just thinking about it.
Believe it or not, with my trusty “To Do List notebook” filling fast, I am very organised.  It’s just over my own finances that I am a disaster.  I used to be a credit controller and took unexpected delight in sorting out other people’s finances, it’s just my own I can’t deal with.  It often niggles me that I suspect my financial paperwork carnage is a reflection of my irresponsible attitude towards money.  I don’t have debts, not even a mortgage, but earning potentially vastly different amounts each month means I spend what I earn, but it takes me a few months to adjust to meagre or non-existent salary months.  Sometimes, the thought of addressing my spending and seeing outgoings v incomings, horrifies me.  I like to know enough not to go overdrawn, but no more.  How, how, how do you change the financial habits of a lifetime?  All this came to a head when I thought about buying a car that would render me £450 a month worse off for four years.  No, no, no.  Big no.
I have never had a regular monthly salary and I am wondering if this would be key to saving and being a more responsible spender.  My first jobs were temp jobs, then EFL teaching (paid per day’s work but with overtime, unpaid days off, etc, etc, that wasn’t regular) and then this crazily paid job.  Turning 37 I have had a vague acknowledgment that I am nearer 40 than 30.  By the time I’m 40 I want to have savings and be more in touch with my spending.  I might even think about getting a pension!
A month today will be the last blog entry for me in my six-month challenge.  I should make that last post a recap of things I’ve said I’ll do, etc, over the previous six months.  My tax return WILL be done and sent by then and a new, effective system of financial organisation will be in place.  Yikes!  That scares me almost as much as the day of impending horror, of being surrounded by receipts and invoices and bank statements …

I dislike clothes shopping, it is a chore that usually ends up making me feel fat/weird-shaped/outcast!  I am writing this looking down on a failed pyjama purchase, it’s not pretty and it’s not fair.

Being on the pudgy side is manageable, it’s having boobs over a C-cup that causes me the most problems.  The pyjama issue is that the bottoms fit fine, as does the top … except that the boob-shaped area is, to put it VERY mildly, insufficient, thus rendering the top unusable, if only for aesthetic reasons.

Everyone has a different body shape and I appreciate that’s why clothes sizes vary from shop to shop.  Zara, for example, make clothes for people who are very different in shape to me; I would need to have about three of their sizes cut and sewn to get a top of theirs to fit me.  For my emotional protection, I never go to Zara.  Bench jeans work for me – a discovery made after years and years of research – but I still have to try on pretty much every style in the size I am by their standards until I find, usually two, different styles that fit me.

I do, however, have two favourite shopping places and a third fall-back.  I get most of my clothes from TK Maxx, then McArthur Glen Designer Outlet (Ashford) and, thirdly, department stores.  The common theme is that there are a variety of brands in a relatively small area so the odds of finding something to fit are increased.

I have to be in the right mood to clothes shop in TK Maxx, it takes a lot of time and patience, but as a result I have all manner of brands, styles, etc; good for interest factor but bad if you buy a brand you don’t know, want to buy more of but can’t find elsewhere.  Also, a bonus that you can get bargains.  Likewise McArthur Glen.  I went there earlier this year.  I needed a jacket.  I had a two-hour shopping slot (I arrived after work at 6 and the shops close at 8).  The shops were quiet, I tried on loads of jackets … and ended up, unsurprisingly, with the first one I tried on.  Whenever I go there for specific things to buy, I almost always get them.  Very satisfying.

As for the trauma of finding clothes that fit, when I win the lottery I am going to have bespoke clothing.  I have to buy one to two sizes bigger in shirts so my bust doesn’t strain in a way that boob-enhanced “glamour” models think looks cool/sexy.  I have to buy trousers a size bigger to enable my bum to fit in, but to the detriment of my waist which then has a waistband too big (and belts that have to tuck in a fair bit of waistband look cumbersome, especially when you have a shirt on that is two sizes too big at the waistline, thus giving you knobbly trunk-like attributes).  I’m fine with skirts.  I can get skirts a staggering two to three sizes smaller than shirts, though I’m (a) not into straight/fitted skirts or (b) not a big fan of skirts, unfortunately, though in part that’s because (c) they often look silly with tops that are too big because of aforementioned boob issue.  Vicious circle.

Don’t stop me, I’m on a roll now.  A lot of the time I look like I’m wearing maternity tops because a lot of tops fall from boob projection terminus straight down, not even touching my mini paunch.  I am as a result dreading the day I am offered a seat on the tube.

I am also really, really fed up of having to wear belts.  Surely there are other women with curves, well I know there are.  I would love to wear trousers that fit my waist and my bottom.

And, really, can “one size fits all” be anything more than a joke?  And another thing, what’s with all trousers being “one leg length fits all”?  Trousers used to be designed for my leg length, I never had to take trousers up.  Now they are usually made in one length, quite rightly to cater for women who would have had mid-calf length trousers previously, but which means me and most others have to either pay (£9-£14 I’ve had to pay) or butcher (NEVER study the hems I’ve done!) their trousers.  It’s scandalous and a huge issue in my day to day life.  Herrumph!


{23/04/2012}   Ironing

I spent about five minutes trying to find my iron yesterday. Sadly, this is a reflection of how rarely I use my iron. I have convinced myself that ironing is a waste of time, largely because clothes and, for example, sheets get creased when you use them anyway. So how come some people spend ages meticulously ironing pretty much everything? Or is it my lack of ironing that’s more of a worry?
The reason for my frantic iron search was to enable me to use a shirt I haven’t worn for ages because of its extremely uncool crumpling, particularly bad around the collar. Likewise to use a tablecloth that looked like a crumpled tissue and to iron a crease in my subsequently shortened trousers. A build up, if you like. I then got a bit carried away and thought “what the heck” and ironed a pillow case and a short sleeved heavy cotton shirt type top. The overall results were beyond satisfactory. The shirt was rendered wearable, the tablecloth looks delightful, my pillow case is suddenly more interesting and the shirty top was a revelation of loveliness; it reminded me why I liked it and bought it in the first place.
My conclusion was that I could see the worth in ironing. But I’m not going to start ironing more often because it takes up far too much time and effort. I already struggle enough with the sorting, putting in the washing machine, hanging up and putting away of laundry. I hate it. I see it as three jobs in one. Ironing would make it four and I think each chore should merely be one job. I have seen mountains of ironing in some people’s homes. Why? It is inevitable that everyone in those households will look better turned out than me, and for that I do feel slightly embarrassed. But most of my outer clothes, eg jackets, jumpers, cardigans, don’t get creased anyway, so by putting them over my non-ironed clothes the creases aren’t even noticeable. As for sheets, which take an obscene amount of time to iron, they will look lovely before their first sleep but after that they won’t look much better than mine. I can see that my lack of ironing is largely a laziness issue. I didn’t get that attitude from my parents. My mum ironed (and I’m sure still does) a lot of things and my dad ironed his shirts (though the less said about his water in mouth spitting technique the better!).
Maybe most people do take the extra time and effort to make themselves look a little less slap dash than me. I do care; I would rather have ironed clothes. But I’m not prepared to do it more than the maybe four times a year that I currently iron. But if I had lots of money, I would pay someone to do all my ironable laundry (I would rather do my own pants) and hang it or fold it afterwards!

{24/03/2012}   Spring cleaning

There are times when I love cleaning. This morning was one of those unfortunately rare occasions. Last night I tidied and dusted (my rock and roll Friday night!) but couldn’t face vacuuming or cleaning. This morning I have been furiously cleaning. I am definitely a morning cleaner. The windows are open, I can hear birds singing and there is an air of freshness everywhere. I am well and truly feeling the joys of spring.

Spring is my favourite season. The days suddenly seem longer, the greens are fresh and vibrant and there is hope for … well, all kinds of things, not least a cleaner home! I did a big spring clean a few weeks ago. Room by room, most things got moved and cleaned. Windows were left open, washing dried outside and I even managed to throw a few things out. It does horrify me how quickly vacuumables reappear though. I understand more than ever that having a cleaner would be a joy. I would miss my unplanned big cleaning sessions, but not so much that I would rather not have a cleaner. I’m not planning to get one though as I have time to do it myself most weeks.

A friend had a cleaner for a while (quite a few friends have cleaners, it transpires) and as his flat looked so good after a few visits, I decided to take advantage of her cleaning knowledge so took note of the products she’d been using. I am now largely tooled up for some hard core cleaning. I had previously tried to be a bit more eco about products, but sadly they largely don’t work. Though vinegar in the sink with a sprinkle of bicarbonate of soda left to fizz before wiping away is a wonder to behold. Also, vinegar to wipe away grease is amazing. And cola down the loo gives a good clean. I’m on an eco roll here. A bit of lemon (eg what you’d throw away after squeezing) wiped over chopping boards then rinsed off is good at getting rid of a bit of garlic/onion odour. That might be it for my eco cleaning repertoire. i would feel even more virtuous about spring cleaning if my cleaning products weren’t full of things origin-unknown.

But I won’t let a few chemicals get in the way of my spring cleaning enthusiasm. This is quite out of character but I am writing this and hoping to end very soon so I can crack on with the bathroom! It’s been dusted and vacuumed but I am now lusting after the mega chemical tile cleaner that makes my tiles gleam, Viakal. I have discovered a real appreciation for glossy tiles! What fun lies ahead this morning. Largely thanks to a friend coming to stay for the weekend! See, there had to be a reason, didn’t there?!

{15/03/2012}   How grubby are you?

How often do you clean your fridge? How often do you wash your sheets? How often do you vacuum? How often do you wash your pyjamas/bra/jeans? It would appear I am properly grubby if my brief internet research and friend questioning is anything to go by!
I clean my fridge about once every six months, a proper everything-out clean. I hate doing it and as it’s a cold environment, it never really occurred to me more frequent cleaning was necessary. I do give spillages etc a cursory wipe as and when they happen though. Apparently, once a week is good. Seriously? I have now got a lovely clean fridge. Maybe it’ll progress to being cleaned every two months now? Realistically, I might manage that.
Sheets. I am embarrassed to confess they get done every three to four weeks. Yikes. In my defence, I do usually shower before bed. The general consensus seems to be every week. I’m not going to detail why but you can imagine, dead skin, bed bugs, etc. I now have clean sheets and I might manage up to two weeks in future. A friend says she has a fortnightly cleaner who also does her sheets. My friend sleeps in one bed for one week and the spare bed for the other week!
Vacuum. Erm, when it looks grubby? My research seems largely consistent: if no children or pets, once a week. Otherwise, two to three times per week. Oh dear. I have a cat. Short haired and not outdoorsy though. Some sites say every day for “heavy traffic” areas but that once or twice a week is more realistic. According to Good Housekeeping, you should vacuum seven strokes over high traffic areas and three to four over lighter traffic areas. It turns out you can invest in a vacuum cleaner with dust sensor to aid this!
Pyjamas. I wash them pretty much every time I do a dark wash, so maybe weekly. General consensus is two to three nights of wear, a little more if you shower before bed (hurrah!), ie twice as often as sheets if you wash them weekly. Yikes again.
I have often wondered about bras as they are so close to your skin and sweaty bits. There is no consensus. Anything from every day (surely they wouldn’t last long?) to up to a month. I think I get maybe four wears.
Jeans appears to be very controversial. Some argue that they were designed for cowboys etc and like they’re going to regularly wash their jeans. One suggestion was wash new jeans after six months (blimey!) Then every three months. Apparently it takes c1800 gallons of water to grow enough cotton to make a pair of jeans. There are a surprisingly large number of environmental sites saying that jeans shouldn’t be washed frequently. The United Nations Environment Programme says jeans should be worn at least three times. To preserve colour they should be washed cold and air dried. As for me, maybe five wears but I know I’ve worn them longer. Not sure about jeans now.
All in all, clothing wise I don’t feel too grubby but house wise, I found this rather distressing. I think I will endeavour to up the cleaning if nothing else!

et cetera