jetsam and flotsam

I came home the other day and almost exploded. As some of you know, my living sitch right now is far from ideal. I am with Miss NitaJane half the time, and at the folks for the other bits. In theory it's great, but in reality, it means, never anywhere long enough to do, say, laundry. Or take op-shop goodies out of their bags, wash, dry and carefully place them. And so as I entered my space a couple of days ago, I could no longer cope. I locked the doors, turned the record player up loud, cranked out some classics (think Sea Shanties, Cabaret Soundtrack, and Celtic/Australian Folk) and started about organising, sorting, cleaning, and finding homes for things.

And so The Great Rearrange began.

I'll admit it's something I'm known for. When I was teaching, the room layout and displays would change radically at least once a month. Something about continually being in the same surrounds makes me feel static and stale. If a change is as good as a holiday, then I am on an almost fortnightly vacay.

For the most part, it's productive. A good opportunity to clear out, to organise, to find that project that you've been meaning to get back too (yes, I mean you, Gary Mk II!), but for me, the absolute best thing about it, is the freshness. I always get the best night's sleep after The Great Rearrange. Sure, moving heavy furniture alone, spending a solid four hours working hard, and the inevitable clean sheets are a contributing factor, but when you get a solid week of decent sleep, there's something to be said for it.

And so, here I sit in my newly arranged, cleaned, tidied, organised, sorted space. And you know what. It's nice.