A Coffee-Fueled Cleaning Frenzy

Listening to Hello Seattle (the remix) by Owl City

Drinking a mocha latte from Starbucks (which is actually pure happiness in a handy to-go cup)

    Brace yourselves. I cleaned my room.

    And my definition of clean has changed from "making a semi-clear path from the door to my bed that may or may not cause you to fall and break something" to "actually putting things away, clearing out all the trash, and making room to use my desk as an actual desk." Those of you who know me personally know what an extraordinary feat this is. Yes, I still have stacks of books all over my room - there are five on my dresser, two on my desk, one on my bedside table, and so many I don't feel like counting them all on my wire rack by the door, but personally I see nothing wrong with having more books than my bookshelf can hold. 

    In my future house, I intend to have numerous bookshelf-lined walls, completely full, and at least one shelf full of my own books. Or maybe just one room with bookshelves on every wall, and a big comfy chair for reading, an electric tea kettle, a desk by a window overlooking whatever fantastic view my future home surveys, with the most well-oiled spinny-chair in the history of home office furniture... 

    I digress. This post is not about my future home and rooms, it's about my current clean room, and the massive success I've had in organizing it. 

    So guess what I've got? Before and after photos, so you can share in my rejoicing! Indulge, dear reader:

First off...

 

 Then, I took on my desk and the rack beside it. I can't tell you how much crap I threw away. (Actually I can. There were three full-to-bursting kitchen-size trash bags.)

Next came the wire rack that's beside my door. 

Notice the alarm clock in the "after" photo. Now I have to get up and cross the room to turn the darn thing off!

Then came my bedside table...

I got rid of the old alarm clock which didn't match my room at all, and added a Reese's (which has since been eaten).

Last came my dresser, which I'm super proud of. 

Who knew I had so many different perfumes! I only really wear one of them.

I even put all my pretty pillows and the throw on my bed, just for this post. 

My bed will probably never look like this again.

 And all of this was fueled by my little friend, Mocha Latte (which is funny, because up until about two weeks ago, I hated coffee. Then my friend Emily made me a mocha at work, and I fell head over heels). I now know why no one seems to be able to function without coffee. I was also sort of irritated at the time, so the mix of coffee and frustration was the volatile kick in the butt I needed to totally dominate my room.

The love of my life.

Perhaps, with the help of coffee and irritation, I can pretend I'm a functional adult and actually get things done.