With the arrival of 'Little Miss Z' drawing ever closer, and with my wife on half-term this coming week, she (the latter!) decided that she couldn't wait any longer to get stuck into the rather major rethink of our upstairs.
So we disassembled the double bed in the spare room - the one we're keeping, because it's better than our newer one (not to mention being our wedding bed). That was the smaller job. The bigger one was to move all the books/helves in the study into our new study, along with the desk, computer-related stuff, etc.
We chucked out a small fraction of stuff - and we've managed to get all the novels upstairs (I had pragmatically split some of the older ones off onto the downstairs shelf). The short stories had to go downstairs, but never mind.
There is always an especially beautiful moment in rearranging where you have brought all the good stuff into your project room, and it looks the best it will ever look. But then you have to go back into your bombsite of another room and go through the piles of crap that you're left with. There will always be stuff that you can neither categorise nor throw away. And sometimes you can't hide it either. So then you have to blemish your pristine new layout with a holder full of pens or paperclips, or a pile of papers you haven't sorted through or still need. There will always be piles of crap.