Is THIS the dining room?

What I want is my dining room back.... it is as simple as that. Simple yes, but it is the hard part too. Right now and since as long as I can remember (which isn't very long) my work room has been in the dining room. Once a year I make a cursory sort and toss so's that the dining table can be found, a meal is served and then quick as can be it is business as usual, a happy mess again.

But somehow I got this niggle... it is a wiggly niggle -- I want my dining room back. I want... I want... I want, as they say, to have my cake and eat it to... in civilized style, at a table please.

So if I am to have my dining room back (which is silly because, accept once a year, who uses it?) I will have to either dispense with my work room...YIKES! Oooorrrrrr, I'll have to move my work room. Move? Move where? Listen, this is a really little house and I have some nerve expecting as much of it as I do and now I want to have a dining room and a work room, my cake and eat it too. Hmmm, I am pushing it...

But there is a solution. I do have a second bedroom. It currently isn't doing anything... accept it houses brickabrac and knick-knacks and old clothes and an old bed and... oh, for the Love of Mike, if I want my dining room where a dining room belongs and a work room in the second bedroom... then I am required to sort through all those knick-knacks and brickabrac, the flotsam, the jetsom, the old clothes, the nonsense that has become my life. I have to take things out of the closet and ask the really hard question -- "Can I now or will I ever again fit into this?"


Some smart aleck organizer once said that we wear 20% of our clothes 80% of the time -- That sounds about right. The rest of our clothes simply take up space. Well in a house this small there isn't any space to lose... Where'd all this stuff come from. Is it like stray puppies that simply follow me home?

Some folks are mighty attached to their excess clothes, some folks like to hang onto their pretty things... And the rest of us just don't want to be bothered sorting through them... I am the latter sort. My deeply attached days are done -- but sorting through all these things is no fun.

It occurs to me I should have bought myself a treat, some bribe... I will work for bribes. I am easy, but I am not cheap. The bribe should have been something good, like a new rug for the dining room... or at the very least a table cloth.

How about this -- if I get these rooms switched by noon tomorrow I will buy myself... more stuff? Hmm, no wonder I didn't bribe me -- I'm no good at dreaming up an adequate bribe.. But wait.... Not stuff... if I get this miserable, I mean lovely room transformed by noon tomorrow I will create a FAB-ulous dinner... a nice wine, a stuffed mushroom or two... What? It isn't like I'm going to fit into those old clothes again.

Here I go, to pitch a bunch more piles and dream up a menu... Too bad you don't live closer -- I would happily share. Happily.