Inspired by the Frozen ear worm, I decided to take a leaf out of Olaf’s book and just ‘let it go’. My weekends are usually quartered thus: part cleaner, part mother, part lover (cringe), part discoverer (of more stuff to do).
But then I read summat in The Daily Fail that said:
The new research has revealed that one in four British women feel stressed every single day, as opposed to just one in 10 men.
So based on some dodgy research from the intern at Kalms, this weekend I realigned the OCD stars and let it all hang out. The scene was post-apocalyptical. We’re talking Lego gathered by the plug hole of the bath; Babybels liberally scattered about the lounge after a Cbeebies meltdown (the words ‘Sarah’ or ‘Duck’ can no longer be uttered in our abode).
Despite Kalms just trying to flog some Zen-inducing nasal spray, I’m with them on this one:
Keeping the house clean and tidy (39 per cent) tops the list of self-imposed pressures.
Even if you have a cleaner (you no doubt ‘tidy up a bit’ before she comes to save the life shame), there’s something within us all that can’t be seen to let it all go. It’s perhaps down to a mash-up of factors: Hyacinth Bucket, the 80s’ love of doilies and occasionally seeing a porridge-caked pan as an attainable triumph.
All I know is I wasn’t getting ratty over plastic cheese this weekend and I discovered my daughter had been collecting sparkly things in a small box under her cot. When the stress-induced eye twitch starts, just sit back, brace yourself, whack Frozen on (for the 147th time) and let it go.
