bless this mess

Each time I invite people over for dinner, I feel obliged to clean up my apartment. The interesting books stop lying around and find their way home to the bookshelf. Paper of all shapes and sizes is hidden in draws. Colourful towels are no longer draped over chairs. The mandala of acrreted detritus on the floor is sucked up. And I am left with bland carpet, bare walls, functional furniture. An empty space
Is messyness my way of doing interior decoration?
Messyness: the inner urge for creativity and beauty placed there by God himself?
A gift, not unlike the one given to Bezalel and Ohilab?
Will my wife ever accept my artistic talent?