The room wasn't really too bad. It was mainly several teetering piles of stuff "to be sorted". I started sorting the first pile and withing 30 seconds I realised why it hadn't been done. I wasn't able to make decisions about any of it either as I didn't know what to do with it, or I couldn't do anything until I'd done something else.
In the end I got an empty box (the contents are now in the bed in the spare room) and used it to put stuff in for the sewing-orientated of our grandchildren. This cleared one enough space to enable me to start on another pile.
I put some other bits aside to give to my great nieces. I chucked stuff out. I made a "for the loft" pile.
I put away things saying the "every little thing I put away makes a cumulative difference" mantra. Pens, Paperclips,. Random bits of stationery. Comb binders. Some Christmas cards fell out of the box on to the floor while I was up the step ladder, and they are now in the bin. (That's very ruthless for me, I hate throwing away stuff like that).
I've got two piles left, and I've come downstairs to get some squash, and to see why the chickens are complaining this time!
I've almost unearthed Orla, my organ, and I might play her later.
