One of the main reasons for my recent malaise is that my house is getting me down. Despite being lucky enough to have a three bedroom flat, it has virtually no storage space (save for my jam-packed fabric closet) and every single room is full to the brim with stuff. Pressed up along the perimeter of every wall, the stacks get higher and the rooms get smaller in ever-decreasing circles. I try to keep on top of it, I have regular clear outs but the stuff seems to replenish itself. As soon as it's organised, I turn around and it's disorganised again. I make space, by the end of the day the space is filled. I know that this is inevitable having small children but the chaos and claustrophobia make me anxious and depressed.
It affects the business because its harder to motivate when I have to take everything out, and put everything back, often very late at night. It affects the children because we have a holding pen in the living room where they spend most of their time and the too-small space creates more conflict. It affects my marriage because we snark at each other about putting extra stuff into newly-empty space, and argue about whose stuff takes up more space (answer: his). It affects me socially because if someone unexpected calls on us, I'll come out into the vestibule to speak rather than invite them in because I'm ashamed (which makes me The Rudest Person on Earth). There is nowhere inside the house that I can take pictures without peripheral mess, which makes me sad. Yes, I am a real person and a mother of small children but proper bloggers and proper crafters have aspirational lives, right?
So I guess I'm at breaking point with the house, and despite the fact our bank balances show negative a million I need to do something to fix this. I was really
I'll start. I totally want to make this beautiful boxes for my mythical shelves: