They say home is where you hang your hat. I don't wear hats, but if I did, it would likely be laying on a table, on the floor, or somewhere chewed up by Dora, my dog. Sometimes I utterly hate coming home. There are dishes, clothes, and godknowswhat on every surface available.
There are no doors, no trim and the place can look rather unfinished. Which would be fine if it were clean. The dog doesn't help much as she sheds coarse brown hairs like a bad habit.
Its not a total pig-stye, more like cluttered creative space.
I'm always thinking I need to clean or do some carpentry. Its exhausting.