So we moved into the house over two years ago. The extra room upstairs that I had planned on turning into a writing room quickly turned into a catch all for everything that didn’t have a place. The spare vacuum cleaner, an extra mirror, a broken bookshelf, etc. It quickly got bad. I mean bad. To the point where my cats were getting lost in there.
I have spent the better part of the summer cleaning out that room. We ripped the ugly brown carpet up, put down laminate flooring, the stuff that looks like hard wood, painted the walls a nice forest green color, and put up some cubby type bookshelves. I not have my desk set up in there, my writing related pictures hung, and the place is wonderful. I would eventually like to get a chair up there, something that I can just sit and relax in.
So it only took me two years, a little over two years, but hey, it’s come a long way.