Getting creative about chaos.

I wanted to enter the tots100 Rated people competition to win a room makeover.

I need a house makeover. With a declutterer. I understand there are people you can pay to come in and help sort your clutter – if there are any competitions out there to win one of those send them my way?

In the meantime, the living room is my primary target, simply because it’s the room that the majority of us spend most of our time in. And if it were reorganised, maybe I wouldn’t spend as much time looking for things, losing things, buying things to replace the things I can’t find and so on.

(Incidentally, I know I’m not going to win this competition. I don’t have time to do a wonderful pinterest board of inspirational pictures. No one is going to be overcome with admiration for my creativity at doing a video of just how dire this room is, as I haven’t done one. None of the children have drawn artful plans of how wonderful the room could be. Basically, this is just words.)

Do you remember when blog competitions were about words? When they weren’t just a way of advertising other people’s businesses? Like when I won the fabulous deal for a ticket to Cybermummy and a room at the hoxton? They even put champagne in the fridge, and they didn’t want a pinterest board. Not that pinterest existed back then.

Anyway, words.

Small is working on the computer to the left of me. He’s surrounded by heaps of stuff. There are five big plastic storage boxes that I can see, and another pile behind them. The boxes obscure the craft shelves which means we can’t do much craft. Not that there’s anywhere on the table to do craft, as that’s covered in, yes, you’ve guessed it, stuff. I’d like to replace the ancient computer desk he’s using with built in shelves across the whole alcove. Then the stuff could come out of the boxes and be accessible – I suspect if we emptied the boxes, half the stuff would go on the way.

For the alcove the other side of the room I’d like to do similar shelving. Which would mean getting rid of the hatch through to the kitchen that is never used. Room for the DVDs and games that spill out of the cupboard on to the floor. And in between, I desperately want to remove the fake stone fireplace. I loathe fake stone. With a vengeance. In fact, if we’d been looking at this house to buy it would have marked it as pretty much unacceptable in my eyes, unless I’d got a promise it would go before I arrived.

I’m out of time.

I’d add pictures of the glory of the fireplace, the heaps of stuff, and the hatch, but I’ve got three minutes to publish this post and tweet it.

Don’t know why I’m bothering really, except that I’m also fed up of not doing things I wanted to do.

Gah.