Don't know where to start

Because it is all too much for an old woman. My lodger left after cleaning her room. I then found an open box of cereal tucked away by the bed, and my sixties Kartell yellow trolley top ruined with marks all over it and some kind of badge stuck firmly to the top. I was horrified as this had been quite expensive and a gift from my son and his wife. I immediately removed it and have managed to get stuff off the top but I suspect it will need sandpapering and polishing to try and restore it. Nightmare. Changed the sheets but the room, despite airing, smells very musty. I have put the dehumidifier in there, but the smell seems to be coming from my lodger's clothes in the wardrobe. Though she does not do it in the house, she is a smoker, which must cause the smell. I do wish she would find somewhere else to live, and the sooner the better. If I ever get another lodger, which I doubt, it will have to be a non smoking cat lover. I then had some slightly confusing messages from my son's Spanish brother, so I was unsure whether he would come here to stay while Nibby is in the room, and realising he might come on Sunday instead of Tuesday as planned, dashed off to an army surplus shop in the Cut to purchase a sleeping mat thing. Just in case. At that point I had another confusing conversation with Madeleine about bringing some other relatives over next Sunday. This is the day when I have to take down the exhibition with only a two hour slot in which to do it. I am still thinking about this and trying to get a hairy arsed bloke to help me with the dismantling. Then Nibby rang to say that instead of coming to Mamuska for lunch at 12 they will have lunch at home and be arriving at 1.45. That will just give us time to pack and dash off to the gallery for 2pm, so that is OK. Then another message from the Spanish contingent to suggest dinner on Sunday evening. Nibby not desperately keen but I pointed out that it might be quite relaxing to go out early and be waited on after our hard work, and will be nice to meet, since I haven't seen him for years. She reluctantly agreed, so I booked and we will meet Dorothy too. Masses of people have said they are coming to the opening, but Dorothy says this type of information is not always reliable. One of the definite absentees will be Romy, who spent yesterday afternoon and evening sending me pictures from Spain where they are stranded at home by flooding and collapse of mountain roads. Her last comment was that she was going out for a walk, which I found rather worrying. Am rather concerned about her. I shall now go and purchase the papers and several containers of Febreze. And text Romy a bit later after fortifying myself with coffee. I have been trying to tranquillise myself by sketching in bed. And trying to improve a drawing of a pub exterior. Will snap these later.