I have an office. It is a scary place. Things move in there that I did not put there. I blame the kids. They deny it. I blame the cat, they point to the dog. The dog licks himself and ignores me. I’m sure there’s a law of something or other that says we expand to fill the space we live in. If there isn’t, there should be.
When I married my husband, I moved in with a suitcase. A year later, we moved into our first house via 2 car loads of stuff. Our 800 square foot house eventually became 1300 square foot, three children, a cat and 2 dogs. To move into our 2400 square foot house required the rental of a 24 ft U-Haul and two trips, plus several more truck fulls and van full and a spare car.
This is not my problem. I am merely obeying that unwritten law of physics.
So here is my office:
I’m sure the cat dragged all those papers inside.
And where did this come from?
Okay, this is my mess.
Looks like my shelving unit vomited
This is the view from the door. All of it got packed into boxes, crates, baskets and just stacked and stacked and stacked. I filled up the dining room and 1/3 of my bedroom. But the room was emptied in 7 hours.
Removing all the frickin’ staples my son used to hang posters over a span of 5 years was another matter. Then we painted and painted again.
On the 7th day, I began slowly to put stuff back. Shelves and more shelves and a trip to Home Depot to buy the little shelving/seat under the window.
Now the cats sit on the seat or hide behind the curtains so no dog can see them.
This set up remained the same but is a bit more organized.
Yes, I did buy another shelf, but I still have too much sewing stuff.
And lastly, I bought a desk that takes up most of the floor space and a ceiling fan, that, um, we don’t exactly know which breaker controls and poor hubby got bit and I got lovely sparks rained down on me. No fire, so we’re cool.
I have 8 boxes of stuff to give to the Monastery for their resale house. Not everything fit. I hope it goes to a good home. Two garbage bags of paper were shredded. I still haven’t gone through all the files. Maybe in a year or two.
But aside from finding and refinishing the closet doors, and hemming the curtains, I can now use my office. Right. I’m sure you’ve seen the flying pigs.