My house has never been spotless. A spotless house is my mother's house. I used to put a book down, go to the bathroom and it would be gone when I got back... sitting at the top of the stairs.. my mom's signal for "put your stuff in your room".
Not so in my household. As I sit here on my couch, the table has a third of it covered in books and notes and random boy-toys like a Batman and a Mr. Incredible, there's a pile of widowed socks on the loveseat, and on the couch I'm wedged into there are four books, a pencil case full of my son's crayons and my mug of tea - perched upon a book.
I won't even try to describe my office. The desk is ok, but the file cabinet is half buried and the small desk (the one I used before the desk upgrade) has been converted to 'holder of random papers'.
My home is a conglomeration of two home offices... two adults, one four year old boy and one bun in the oven. It's a little busy, but not as busy as some. I also work outside of the home full time.
There is just one rule when it comes to my writing... just sit down and get it done. No whining about the lack of time, no making excuses of how much laundry there is, no dallying.. just sit down and get it done. It's not the most fun rule.. I'm a former queen of procrastination, but I've learned that the only way to get to the end is just one foot in front of the other.
At least that's how it works with my non fiction.
My fiction is a whole other post for another day.