Domestic chores come around too fast. Sunday is my must-do day to put on a wash, hoover, wipe surfaces with the sprays stashed under the sink, and flit around my flat with a magnetic duster on a stick which I discovered during a lockdown when bricks and mortar shopping was limited to supermarkets and hardware stores. Come every Sunday morning and I feel like I just did these duties yesterday. As I am transferring the week’s recyclables from the drawer where I keep them to a binbag (and always the same fear that the binbag itself may not be recyclable,) I often find myself humming that song by Joan Osbourne – “What if God was one of us? Just a slob like one of us…”

There are those who do the washing up or stack their dishwasher immediately after eating. I’m a leave-the-dishes-to-soak-I-will-do-them-later type of person. Then with Woman’s Hour on Radio 4 at 10am, I’m better able to soap, rinse and stack. (Do people still dry washed dishes with a tea towel or only in films?) In an effort to minimise time spent cleaning, I clean my apartment as I go along with life. I’ve programmed myself to wipe the bath ring whilst the water is draining away and to defog the shower screen door with a car ice scraper (also known as a squeegee) a moment before I leave the bath. If I notice sticky finger marks on a kitchen cupboard as I am cooking, I’ll dovetail.

With my clothes there’s more procrastination. I have a friend who hangs her coat in a wardrobe the moment she arrives home. How does she have the discipline? It’s enough for me to take off my shoes, put handbag essentials (keys, phone, earbuds etc) in the places where they are best remembered, and unpack any shopping. My coat is thrown on a hat stand next to the front door. As for my outfits – hanging, folding, putting away and all that jazz – happens during my working day when I need to think things through before typing an important email, or when I’m annoyed and then I don’t even notice that I put my clothes away. At night, once the other hat stand in my bedroom can no longer hold any more clothes without tipping over, I pile clean worn outfits on the floor – never berating myself because at least I do it neatly so that nothing needs to be ironed or steamed. Obviously there is no linen in my life.

I have also, sadly, let go of cashmere. I’ve heard it said that once you go cashmere, you never go back. And wow does it feel good against your skin. But bringing cashmere home is just me feeding a certain species of moths that don’t care if I’ve wrapped my jumpers in plastic. Sellers of cashmere clothing – and I met one of them – might tell you that nowadays it’s trendy to wear your holey jumpers in a couldn’t care less way. But for me it’s like ripped jeans. It just didn’t feel right. With any item of clothing, I want all the fabric I can get.

Cleaning is one thing and sorting is another. Call me weird but I find decluttering fun and get a pick-me-up in tidying a messy drawer. Over the years I’ve helped friends to sort out their stuff and I can confidently claim that I am a professional organiser and the kind of motivator who will get unwanted household items out of car boots and into charity shops. So what’s my top tip for decluttering your home? Go slow, aim low but do do it, and you may be nicely surprised.

Cover Photo: Oh for the days when my nephew didn’t have a phone and would visit me and insist that he wanted to play at hoovering.