The reality x
Whilst downstairs might be looking all shiny and new. It’s a different story upstairs. This is the spare room – more commonly known as the promise-it’s-only-temporary storage facility.
I’ve spent the last week clearing it..which resulted in a huge strop at the weekend, because it seriously feels like attacking an iceberg with a bent teaspoon.
With tackling it comes the horrible realisation of the inevitable insidious creep of crap into every other room of the house, because it has to get worse before it gets better.
This is the ensuite. The idea is that anything bound for charity or car boot can reside in here..but just the thought of more multi-layered jobs still to do is doing my head in. I just want it out. I don’t want stuff, I don’t want bits..I want a clean floor…and no boxes..
I’ve got it to this now..a little glimmer of light at the end of a long tunnel. And yes, that is a bed..and yes, the rocking chair will move..one day.
Laters, Kate x
I have a lodger at moment whose made my spare room look like you and yours have ocd….thankfully her and her clutter will soon be gone. Good luck with yours xx
By the end of our paring down from 3700 sq. ft. to 1700, I was ready to give anything to anybody just to get rid of it. 🙂
Our baby stuff has started arriving and we still have a friend living in our spare room… our lounge is practically a baby explosion. Right now Mr O is using a bottle sterliser as a footrest.