I used to think I had a messy room when I was a kid. My children have proven to me over and over again that I was a rank amateur when it comes to keeping a bedroom messy. So far my efforts to instill in them some pride in having a neat room have been rather futile. Getting them to do anything that remotely resembles cleaning their rooms is usually quite a battle. I think I only have myself to blame though, they had been exposed to my somewhat inept housekeeping for too many years. I finally discovered that I had a recessive decorating gene after I had passed my 40th birthday. Slowly, but surely I have been attempting to turn this house into something that looks like a home.

I had never owned a home before, and never lived anywhere for more than a couple of years for most of my adult life. I had never mastered the art of completely unpacking everything from the mover's boxes and finding a good place for each item. By the time I was ready to tackle the last few boxes, it was time to pack up and move again. Being a packrat didn't help matters too much either. My previous efforts to organize the house usually started with boxes labeled for each room in the house, which were used to collect and sort all the out of place items from all over the house. Of course I would always run out of time and/or energy before I finished, and the half full boxes would remain piled up in my bedroom for months. I finally realized I was trying to do too much at one time. Rome wasn't built in a day, and I wasn't going to turn this half-unpacked house into a picture perfect domicile in a few hours. I tried to pick one small thing to do each day, and if I didn't get around to it, I tried to not give up on myself. One box a day, or maybe just one box a week, was a more reasonable schedule for me.

The important thing was finally getting a picture in my mind of what I would like to do. Having less stuff to worry about made the job easier, and loads of unnecessary items were dragged off by the truckload. The lightening of my material burden probably benefited the many local charities that were the recipients of my excess household items.

I knew I would never be able to totally banish all traces of packrat from my personality, and I couldn't bear to get rid of some of my cherished items. Instead I focused on finding a way to either store or display them that would look acceptable. I still own every single computer game, software program, computer and computer accessory that I have ever bought, and this is since 1986. I also started a small toy collection, and my accumulation of books frequently approaches the size of a small public library. With a little experimentation, the books and software boxes found homes on shelves throughout the house; extra spaces on the shelves are used to display my slightly eccentric collection of toys. A hint from a somewhat reformed packrat to other potential packrats out there, if you can't resist the urge to collect, severely limit yourself to what you are allowed to collect.

My personal space has evolved from cardboard boxes piled everywhere, to something that closely resembles the inner me. A woman/child that likes Star Trek, Barbie accessories, teddy bears, computer games, lots of books, music, dark wood, white walls, flowers, stained glass, and pastels in pink and blue with a touch of art deco. Maybe not everyone's cup of tea, and not perfect yet, but then again neither am I.

 --- © Renee