Post-partum nesting?

You know that episode of Friends where Chandler discovers Monica's messy closet? The funny is that she's such an organized person, and that she has this one place where she's a complete mess and full of anything and everything. Anyway, I have such a closet, where it looks like a mess, but in my mind, is utterly organized: the guestroom closet. In this closet, you'll find plastic bins of holiday decorations; moving boxes with CDs, dentistry stuff, photo albums and other random things; puzzles and game consoles; and a cow footstool. Today, I reorganized it, spending at least an hour stacking, moving, and really just strategically figuring out how best to place all of it so I can get in there without tripping over stuff.
All this after I organized my file cabinet last week and Brian's bookcase the week before. If I didn't know any better, I would say that I'm still nesting. It's kinda creepy, the projects I've been motivated to get done lately. As an example, I noticed that when the cleaning ladies dust my armoire in the bedroom, they slide the plant along the top. A ceramic tray and an oak armoire do not live well together, and the tray was scratching the top of the piece. The next day, I went to Target to find some of those felt furniture protectors for the pot's tray. It's weird that, in my head, it absolutely had to be done the very next day.
Household projects that I'm itching to get done: new bed linens in the master bedroom; new towels in the master bathroom; a new television in the living room and moving TV stand and DVD rack; moving bar glasses and wedding china into a box for storage; organizing storage space out on balcony; little baskets and bins for Sydney's bathroom stuff; re-organize Sydney's closet. Then, of course, there is my secret desire (and I'm a little ashamed of it actually): I want new bed linens for Sydney's room, too. I want something pink and flowery that goes with the green gingham, because I still love that, but more colorful and girly. ... And if any of you mention my naive desire for a gender-neutral nursery, I'll ... well, I'll be embarrassed and admit that I didn't know what I was talking about.