For a long time, my husband and I shared our home office. He had his neat and tidy little desk and I had my huge suppose-to-be-a-kitchen-table desk. My area of the room included my desk, a couple of bookshelves and, of course, the floor in between, and it was filled with papers, markers, paints, glues, scissors, and other crafting supplies. The situation was, to say the least, not ideal. I was afraid to make too big of a mess, and my husband had fears that my "contained" mess might eat him alive.
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