It's coming along. Slowly but surely. Yesterday I got my studio packed up the rest of the way, a truly gargantuan task. The only things left on the desk are a notebook for class tomorrow and my precious Baby Lock serger. (Fun fact: my mom and I started singing "Baby Lock, oh Baby Looock," on our way out of the sewing and vacuum shop with my precious in tow.)
It's pretty astounding how much stuff you can accumulate in a year. And now it's not just yarn stuff, it's also paper patterns from draping and grading classes, random pins, hook & eyes, lengths of horsehair braid and ribbon. Luckily I haven't yet become a fabric hoarder, although I'm sure it's bound to happen given my chosen career path.
I started the process going through everything and really thinking about everything that I packed up, but towards the end it was almost entirely picking something up, having a blinding fit of not giving a shit, and shoving it in a box with the other random crap. In the end, my impatience with mind-numbing amounts of cleaning beats the crap out of my sense of perfectionism.
That's healthy, right?