I live in a constant state of organised mess, that's according to my husband. And there is a room in the house that best embodies that - where things are stored in boxes, piled up in shelves to give a false impression of order. But that is better than no order at all, I would argue and he concedes (like he has a choice)!
I have a terrible habit of hoarding. I went to Gibraltar with a 20kg box and a suitcase, moved to the UK with two large boxes and two suitcases and five house moves later, we have an entire home with furniture to deal with. Most of these boxes are labelled 'Study', filled with books bought from the charity shop five-at-a-time, thick work-related paperwork and stashes of art materials that's been sitting in the shelves for months waiting for my creative juices to ooze out (and they haven't for the last year).
When we were living in a three bedroom terrace house, storage wasn't a problem but when we downsized to a bedroom and a half, it suddenly became an issue. So a Kindle replaced the big collection of unread novels and the paperwork were all scanned and shredded. What's left are all organised in boxes of different sizes, stacked up in our two year old IKEA Expedit bookcase (one of the few Ikea items I have no regret of buying) and the new Argos Maine bookcase (a more sensible purchase).
My dream study of course would be one where the walls are lined up with shelves and an endless display of books but for now this will do. And now that my sense of order has been restored, all I need to do is switch on the creative juices but why, oh why, is that such a hard thing to do?
I have a terrible habit of hoarding. I went to Gibraltar with a 20kg box and a suitcase, moved to the UK with two large boxes and two suitcases and five house moves later, we have an entire home with furniture to deal with. Most of these boxes are labelled 'Study', filled with books bought from the charity shop five-at-a-time, thick work-related paperwork and stashes of art materials that's been sitting in the shelves for months waiting for my creative juices to ooze out (and they haven't for the last year).
When we were living in a three bedroom terrace house, storage wasn't a problem but when we downsized to a bedroom and a half, it suddenly became an issue. So a Kindle replaced the big collection of unread novels and the paperwork were all scanned and shredded. What's left are all organised in boxes of different sizes, stacked up in our two year old IKEA Expedit bookcase (one of the few Ikea items I have no regret of buying) and the new Argos Maine bookcase (a more sensible purchase).
My dream study of course would be one where the walls are lined up with shelves and an endless display of books but for now this will do. And now that my sense of order has been restored, all I need to do is switch on the creative juices but why, oh why, is that such a hard thing to do?
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