My boyfriend is moving in. I understand that such things usually cause stress. Panic. Unsurprisingly perhaps, I am feeling the aforementioned things (really, I'm not usually one to stress. I'm unemployed). See, the problem is, my room is small. Not tiny, but small. Squashed. Disorganised. My light hasn't worked since I moved in. Clothes are spread across the floor on a permanent basis. Many of the basics, I am somehow missing - a mirror, a cupboard, drawers. While none of these things seemed to be major issues prior to this revelation, suddenly, with an influx of clothes, undies (mine are currently in a '70s telephone seat) and, you know, stuff, it is.
So I find myself trawling wide-eyed through The Selby for inspiration. Reorganisation in the form of new furniture, boxes, drawers. Decluttering in the form of Ebay, markets. And yet all the Internet throws me is amazing images of clutter. It's organised clutter, I'll tell my boyfriend.
I think I have a fetish for mess. Shhh... don't tell him though, it might cause him to panic.