Declutter your Home / The truth of the matter is

The truth of the matter is

Many people will judge who you are by your appearance and the appearance of your home. This is why it is so important to foster that all important first impression to make it the right one.

It doesn’t matter whether your clutter is at home, you can be sure that if you take a closer look at your office space as well, that it’s in just as bad a mess as your home is.

Only in your office, you keep shoving things around so that they eventually go unnoticed as clutter, and look more like work in progress.

In my case, since I work from home, my office was also in my home. This meant that sometimes clients would get a rushed through peek at what happened to be a suspiciously neat room, but which was in fact a big mess.

My method of cleaning in the event that a client might have to be taken into the living room was to shove everything into the one room, which is how I ended up with a room that time simply forgot, or as I like to think of it, the TARDIS.

And for all you people looking at that and wondering what on earth I’m talking about, well, it just goes to show you how times have changed.

The TARDIS for your information (standing for Time And Relative Dimension In Space), was essentially a space traveling machine light years ahead of our technology. It was an old 50’s style police box of the kind found in London, England.

And it was utilized by the Time Lords (from the BBC science fiction series, Doctor Who), and was in point of fact, like no ordinary police box that anyone had ever seen.

The details of the whole thing are great but the short of it, is that when you went inside the box you would find yourself within not the small confines of the police box, but a within a large many roomed space traveling machine with all the mod-cons of the day.

Hence why I dubbed the room, the TARDIS. Appearances were vastly deceiving as I found out over the years as I went to stuff something inside.

The time that it finally registered on me that I had a real TARDIS on my hands was the time when I finally managed to make my way through one end of the room to the other making essentially a small “parting of the clutter” so to speak, in my wake.

Actually what was really surprising was that I managed to make my way out of there without undue harm or injury (just a scratch or two here and there, a bump and bruise, along with a fast pumping heart when I heard something moving almost next to me, which needless to say, I didn’t stay to find out about!).

The point that I was trying to make though before I got so distracted was that eventually when my own personal TARDIS became too full, and I ended up shoving things behind the couch, under the bed, behind that massive table I inherited which doesn’t seem to have a beginning or an end, and even in some harried instances, into the bath!

But wait, if I was that bad, and let me assure that I really was that “bad”, then how did I manage to turn myself around without the aid of ancient cleaning techniques, a self help book, or even the aid of a cleaning service.

It is I have to say, not a pretty story. It’s a funny story to everyone else, but to me, it was a personal tragedy.

It began one fine winter’s day. The sun was gleaming off the snow covered-everything, the birds were chirping away happily in the heated birdbath and the family was coming over for a spot of winter wonderland fun in the form of snowmen, snowball fights, sledding, and best of all, skiing.

Let me just take the time out to say that I am a champion skier and even my family have admitted it to be true. This of course was the reason for my personal tragedy as it were: I had somehow managed to break my leg even before I went skiing!

But wait, I digress. We will instead go back to the shining sun and the chirping birds amid the air of anticipation.

It was a silly thing really, and with hindsight there was no way that I could have avoided it, but here goes. Oh, and did I mention that my house is on a fairly steep slope? It pertains to the story.

So there I was, all trussed up like mom’s thanksgiving turkey and feeling just as hot, when I spy the neighbor’s kids coming over with eager looks, a rambunctious puppy and a sled.

I wait there for them to come over to me because I know that the minute I turn my back, the squirrel that’s been eyeing my skiing gear will do away with something or other to line its nest.

I hear a shout from the other direction and turn my head to see my assorted nephews and nieces making their way towards me. For some odd reason they prefer to get down at the base of the hill and race up to my house, which I find completely crazy, especially in winter.

Anyway, there I was being converged on all sides by children, dogs (because naturally the children in our family must have at least one of them around), and an eager-beaver in the form of a squirrel eyeing my thermal lined gear.

And that’s when it happened, when tragedy struck in the form of two or three or half-a-dozen, overeager puppies (that point always seems to be a sticky issue), meeting with me in the middle a lá 101 Dalmatians.

I was not to be as lucky as in the movie, because instead of keeping my full attention on the bounding dogs I was also keeping a weather eye on the squirrel who was taking advantage of the distraction to advance ever closer.

To make a longer story short, the dogs met and greeted each other with joy, the kids thinking it all to be high fun all joined in, and the squirrel taking its chance scurried over and filched one of my prized skiing gloves.

I will always swear that it was the squirrel that it did it, because it was as I was reaching for it that I happened to lose whatever precarious balance I had and went tumbling down the mountain (well, at least, it felt like a mountain to me).

This gave immediate lie to the fact that a rolling person gathers no snow because by the time I ended up – or down as the case may be – at the feet of my astonished siblings, I had gathered what seemed like a ton of snow in every possible nook and cranny and was, even as they watched, melting in front of their eyes!

To cut a long story short again, I broke my leg, didn’t get to go skiing after all, had to suffer the indignity of being ridiculed by all and sundry, and to add insult to injury, the darned squirrel managed to get away with my glove after all.

That was however, not the end of it. I was now forced to spend more time in my house, or rather in certain cluttered up parts of my house, than I had previously ever had to.

It is at this point that the real story begins.

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