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Mum has caught on that I'm trying to weasel out of the family's usual pattern of sitting around in clutter moping about it until somebody else gets stuck cleaning it up when you die. Fortunately she more or less sees the wisdom in this.
We moved ALL THE FURNITURE, with a slight hitch when it turned out that a unit we rescued from the dumpsters at our last flat actually has runners from different makes of elfa-type storage in it and they're not quite the same size front-to-back, which was a problem when we went to stack the two large-basket pieces for the first time since we've had it; however, a little thought suggested the likelihood that we might have two matching sets of runners and an odd pair, so I just pulled most of it apart and rebuilt it so that the incompatible runners were on the end that wasn't getting stacked and we were good to go. So I now have a nice rethought mailing-center/stash-wrangling unit, instead of laundry-baskets full of yarn and boxes of envelopes all over the house. The shelf that was boxed in on that wall is now on the opposite wall, clear of obstructions, and is already loaded with more or less what's supposed to be on it, including a shelf for my dyeing-business stuff. And we can now reach ALL THE WINDOWS.
So, that was the weekend; yesterday, I went after the shelf above my desk where paperwork had got stored in plastic briefcases. There were six of them. This took me all day. My life is now lighter by an 18" stack of 20lb bond, among other things, and it's probably a good thing that it was somewhere in the middle of this that I hit the case with mementoes of a couple of actually-successful-projects in it, because going through reams of old writing was enough to make the chuck-it-all-and-become-a-bricklayer brainweasels show up in force. My brain is way too weird to be allowed out in public, apparently.
(Also, the first thing Mum said when she came home from work and saw the 18" stack was Paper hog, and then went off in a huff when I took offense at the suggestion even in jest that my art was a waste of resources. Example #I've-lost-track of why I'm neurotic about my basic right to take up space in the world by existing at all.)
Overall, we're making a lot of progress, although it's still mostly been on my stuff. We still have a wall of attached shelving and two bookcases to tackle, most of which is Mum's to deal with, and two filing cabinets which need to be replaced with one three-drawer file at some point $$ allowing. And then we get to do Mum's room and the storage under the front stairs... {sigh}
We moved ALL THE FURNITURE, with a slight hitch when it turned out that a unit we rescued from the dumpsters at our last flat actually has runners from different makes of elfa-type storage in it and they're not quite the same size front-to-back, which was a problem when we went to stack the two large-basket pieces for the first time since we've had it; however, a little thought suggested the likelihood that we might have two matching sets of runners and an odd pair, so I just pulled most of it apart and rebuilt it so that the incompatible runners were on the end that wasn't getting stacked and we were good to go. So I now have a nice rethought mailing-center/stash-wrangling unit, instead of laundry-baskets full of yarn and boxes of envelopes all over the house. The shelf that was boxed in on that wall is now on the opposite wall, clear of obstructions, and is already loaded with more or less what's supposed to be on it, including a shelf for my dyeing-business stuff. And we can now reach ALL THE WINDOWS.
So, that was the weekend; yesterday, I went after the shelf above my desk where paperwork had got stored in plastic briefcases. There were six of them. This took me all day. My life is now lighter by an 18" stack of 20lb bond, among other things, and it's probably a good thing that it was somewhere in the middle of this that I hit the case with mementoes of a couple of actually-successful-projects in it, because going through reams of old writing was enough to make the chuck-it-all-and-become-a-bricklayer brainweasels show up in force. My brain is way too weird to be allowed out in public, apparently.
(Also, the first thing Mum said when she came home from work and saw the 18" stack was Paper hog, and then went off in a huff when I took offense at the suggestion even in jest that my art was a waste of resources. Example #I've-lost-track of why I'm neurotic about my basic right to take up space in the world by existing at all.)
Overall, we're making a lot of progress, although it's still mostly been on my stuff. We still have a wall of attached shelving and two bookcases to tackle, most of which is Mum's to deal with, and two filing cabinets which need to be replaced with one three-drawer file at some point $$ allowing. And then we get to do Mum's room and the storage under the front stairs... {sigh}