Unfuck Your Habitat

buttercupsfrocks:

As an inveterate housework shirker, I’ve been lurking on Unfuck Your Habitat for a while, trying to summon up the requisite energy to unfuck my own. Most of my waking hours are spent incarcerated in what I laughingly call my study - a boot cupboard room measuring 5’ 11” by 7’ 6”. Over the past few weeks I’ve been working flat out on the second edition of my book, in between running around like a blue-arsed proverbial lecturing to soon-to-be-graduating illustration students in exotic locations like Manchester, Derby and Doncaster. You’d best believe my habitat was fucked.

Scuzzy mugs and plates were beginning to pile up about the place; superfluous items mocked me from every surface; the carpet was covered in crumbs; my phone and keyboard were in all probability harbouring every form of killer bacteria known to mankind; I had managed to accumulate four months worth of filing, (which comes a close third to ironing and tax returns in the list of things I’d rather drink a strychnine soda laced with rat’s eyeballs than do) – so I decided to bite the bullet and de-scuzz. 

Behold, tumblr, my horrid Befores and awesome Afters, as I present to you my pristine workspace:-

Wanna see it from the other side?

Wanna see what I did with the picture frame that’s been gathering dust for weeks on end?

…that’s right, I framed the fabby Matte Stephens kitty print gifted to me for my birthday by my bestie! I also swapped the print I didn’t like much for an original of hers. And there’s more…

Why, yes, that is a Spike action figure to the right of my erstwhile junk dumping surface. And, yes, I am 53. And what of it?

Mission accomplished. I even polished the desk.