The clutter is winning. It's wearing me down and stressing me out. If I could toss out the junk and pack up the knickknacks, I'd feel a lot calmer. I've tidied up and organized things quite a bit in the past couple of months, but there's still a lot left to do. The problem I face now is that it's not my house. I want to help my mother out, but I don't want to overstep any boundaries. Just because I prefer things a certain way doesn't mean my mother does. Just because I'm apparently a closet OCD sufferer doesn't mean my mother is.