Dear Six-Years-Ago Me,
I've been unpacking this week; unpacking all the stuff that you put into storage when you left for Russia six years ago. It's been an interesting couple of days and I have a couple of questions for you because for the life of me, I'm not sure what you were thinking on a couple of points...
1. I just un-boxed the china that we were given for our wedding and which we used maybe 3 or 4 times before we left London back in 2010. Now, dear Six-Years-Ago Me, I know you weren't responsible for this; it was Fourteen-Years-Ago Me who made this screw-up when compiling that wedding gift list, but you're closer to her chronologically speaking and your memory might be in better shape than mine, so I wonder if you can tell me; you don't drink coffee. I don't drink coffee. And Fourteen-Years-Ago-Me didn't drink coffee, either. So why, in god's name, are there not one, not two, but TWELVE coffee cups and saucers in your wedding service? Only four tea-cups and saucers, but TWELVE coffee cups. For goodness' sake, Nespresso machines had only just been invented back then!
WTF were you thinking?
2. Don't take this the wrong way, Six-Years-Ago Me, but I'm not very impressed with your standards of cleanliness. I mean, it's one thing to live with an accumulation of crumbs at the bottom of the toaster and a kettle that hasn't been de-scaled since heaven knows when, but it's quite another to pack them away into deep storage, only to have to clean them when you take them out. Husband thinks I'm being too hard on you; it was a stressful situation (we were moving to Russia, I suppose), and you did have a 3 year old and a 6 year old to tend to after all. Still. Could Do Better, I'm afraid...
3. And whilst I'm at it, where did you put the cutlery, Six-Ago-Me? And the day to day china? Because all the packing boxes are now empty and I have still to come across them. Don't get me wrong, it's very nice to eat my breakfast cereal from a Royal Doulton bowl but given my butter-finger proclivities it's only a matter of time before it all comes crashing down (quite literally) and I would much prefer that in that case, it's Ikea's finest in smithereens on the kitchen floor. So please, where on earth did you (or the packers?) put it all?
4. But I don't want to end on a negative note, Six-Years-Ago Me, so I just wanted to tell you one last thing; I found that series of pieces that you wrote for that estate agent's magazine when you were living in London. You know, the ones about being a West London mum... You were pretty funny, Six-Years-Ago Me. Respect. How on earth did you find the headspace? What's that? The time I spend cleaning and tidying is the time you spent being creative?