And relax....

So, as you may recall from yesterday, I got the carpet in the guest bedroom, making Absolute Completion of that room. Well, the next thing to address was to actually move in.

Whilst this is technically the guest bedroom, it shall – for a few months/years – be substitute master bedroom. This is whilst I move all my living furniture up into the master bedroom whilst I decorate the main lounge; then clear out the master bedroom and decorate that. I can then make a decision as to which room I prefer.

But, in the meantime, I am in the guest bedroom and so need to move in. Yet again I had set myself a deadline for this.

I like deadlines in the same way as I like routines. They give you something to aim for, to achieve. Most of the deadlines I set are not critical but are either aesthetic or simply useful. Take the guest bedroom project: my latest deadline was to get all of the furniture in so that the room could be occupied by my friend who is visiting from London this weekend.

Of itself not a critical deadline: he could easily have stayed in a semi-complete room. So long as there was a bed in there, what did it really matter? But it mattered to me.

And again, this was a bit of a catch 22 deadline. Fine, get the furniture complete, move myself mostly in, but as I was to be doing the gentlemanly thing and giving up the room for him and I was to stay on the sofa-bed either in the living room or move it up to the master bedroom (where it needed to go in any event) all of my clothes would be in the guest bedroom. It is either that, or leave my clothes in the master bedroom and inconvenience myself with having to flit between the two when dressing.

So anyway, first task: bed.

All of the other furniture was to be new; however as previously discussed, the bed was a reasonably recent purchase anyway, and had been selected with the design of the spare room in mind, so needed carting over from the old room. Well, after a struggle (and minor bump to the head) I got it taken apart sufficiently that it would be moveable single-handedly.

This had to be complete on the day I started it. Well, it was that or kipping on the sofa-bed, which seemed pointless. And obviously there was my excitedness: I was to be spending the first night in my new bedroom! This would be the first time sleeping in there since I bought the house and slept in a roll of carpet.

There is a reason for that.

It was a Friday when I first bought the property. I was going out for a Friday night in town and was determined to stay in my new place for two reasons. Firstly, because IT WAS MY NEW HOME! This was the first home I had ever owned, so it would have been odd not to stay in it on the first night. Secondly it was considerably closer to town, and rather than get a twenty pound taxi back to my parents I could walk it. Obviously I hadn't had time to move any kit in, and the house was in a bit of a state, so I had to sleep in the middle of a roll of carpet for warmth.

So, anyhow, I knew that my first job post-carpet was to be the bed. I obviously celebrated my last night in my old bedroom by having someone stay over, the last time I would have to apologise for the condition of the bedroom (hopefully)

The remainder of the furniture I treat very much as a giant, fun, jigsaw puzzle and had no problems putting together. I had measured everything out so I got the perfect fit of wardrobes and drawers. It's still amazing how little space there is for clothes, even with a two-door wardrobe; a three-door wardrobe and a five-drawer chest of drawers. I am going to have to be ruthless with a clear-out and this may see the end of the lime-green-zip-up shirt.

But yes, that is the situation I am in at the moment: the room is built, decorated, furnished and generally looks amazing; but I am living between the two until I get the time to have a full clothes audit.

That is quite a daunting prospect actually. I don't even think when I came back from university or when I moved into the house in the first place that I had a full clothes audit. And since then I have purchased considerably more clothes than I have thrown out. I really am going to have to be devastatingly ruthless.

But that first Saturday night in bed was amazing. Absolutely unbelievable. It's odd: it felt like home. For the first time, pretty much ever really I felt like I had a home, a little oasis of calm amid the clutter.

The house has always felt like home to me in as much as when I see it after a holiday, or even just after a bad day at work, I relax and I feel 'at home'. But it has been a home of particular circumstance.

Like I say, when I take people home I have to apologise. I still will have to – they will still have to see the kitchen, the lounge, the hall, all in their state of undecor. And it has meant that I have been reluctant to hold parties, soirées or any such. And I still will be until I at least get the lounge complete.

But for once I have a room where I can hide myself away; relax properly; watch tv without looking at the wall behind and thinking 'that needs plastering'. I will be able to take people back and they will forget about the rest of the house and I won't have to be constantly explaining that the peeling walls are actually a quirk; that the various defects are all 'on the list'.

I think, for the very first time, I let my guard down and relaxed all the way. And this is despite knowing all the million-and-one jobs there are to do; despite knowing that the room still needs the clothes putting in, and a couple of millimetres shaving off the bottom of the door; and the window washing; and a wee dab of paint on the wall where the wardrobe rubbed against it (so, maybe not quite Absolute Completion, but is there ever really such a thing?)

I just lay back and smiled.