The topic is close (though personally I get fed up with clutter way too soon and go on mad cleaning binges; the OC/geek-level-autism aspect maybe), and a friend linked it, so I'm reading this classic article on garbage houses again. "Inspirational" excerpt:
Things fall apart. You mean to, but then you don't. Or you do, but then you just lose track of it all. For awhile, perhaps, there was the desire. Later, a kind of fatigue. Time gets away. Something slips--a disconnect--and the heat goes. Tomorrow you will have to set everything right. But the idea gets lost underneath, in the piles. No one is watching, anyway. No one's coming over. No one's been notified.