I really don't want to admit this one, mostly because I've been living the opposite way for more than eight years. But here goes anyway.
I find that I work better when my work space is neat. Tidy. Clean. Not covered in scraps and thread.
My mother will tell you that I taught her something very liberating. She saw me working a bunch of years ago and noticed that I never aimed for the trash can when I clipped seams or when I snipped threads. I simply let them fall to the floor. "Oh, it just slows me down. I just pick them up later."
The problem was that I never did pick them up later. I just left them there. And when I did clean up, I reminisced about the projects that I'd completed months before. And I'm not really exaggerating when I say months. I might even be hedging on the other side there a little.
I always have fabric on the floor, on the table, in the corners, everywhere. I always have weeks of work stacked up in my little room, and I'm usually working on eight different projects at a time. I got a little bug the other day, in between projects, to rearrange and clean up a little. Oh, honestly, let's just admit it. People were coming over, and the scraps and threads had migrated to the front entry. There. Fine.
So I rearranged and cleaned up. And then, about four days later, I found that the floor was messy again and wanted to vacuum. And here's the crazy part: I DID! Seriously, in the year plus we've lived here, I've only vacuumed that room a handful of times, and two of those times were in the past week.
But I like it. And I did recover a chair since then, and made a couple of roman shades, and curtains and a valance or two and a table cover. And I can find them -- I just need to deliver them, extraneous thread free. So I might even be a little more productive. And :::wince::: happier in there.
I hate it when I'm wrong. And I especially hate it when I'm wrong for a really long time.