As you can see from the picture, things always get worse before they get better. I shifted out some furniture, digging stuff out from underneath like a dog after a buried bone.
Urgh. It was horrible. At one point I had blocked myself in and with 1 sq ft of floor space and no access to the doorway I was pathetically turning on a sixpence moving piles from one side to the other, neither clearing nor tidying. Just moving mess.
Then, as suddenly as it was started, it was done .... done dun dun dun duuuun!
In three days exactly it will look as if there had been no sorting and tidying gone on whatsoever.
I have learnt that I am really, really, really messy. I moan about the mess round the house, things dumped on surfaces, clothes on the floor. I try to blame it on the boys. It was an odd realization that 85% of it was created by me. Damn.
I now know why I started. I'd been blog browsing and enviously oooing and ahhing over some gorgeous pictures of other people's workrooms. All white, all shelved with matching baskets in lines and piles upon piles of neatly folded fabric and little jars of buttons. Aha! I know why! I exclaimed. They have soooooo much time because they aren't selling anything, that's what it is! YAY! They can fold and stack and dust and line up all day long. I, on the other hand, am nestling bunnies into boxes, packaging up, stitching and sewing all day. You see, the messier your workroom, the busier you are and therefore the more successful you are. Sorted. Justified. Job done.
I still haven't remembered what I went into my room for in the first place.