Richard:Look, I get it: you're busy. After 31 years at Crazy Ed's Insurance Warehouse, you were shitcanned and replaced by an Eric Trump wannabe. Those Peanuts collectibles you bought on eBay, hoping that they'd appreciate in value and fund your retirement, turned out to be Chinese knockoffs from the Peanoughts collection. Uber isn't as lucrative as you'd hoped, so you're juggling 17 side-hustles to make ends meet. Ain't nothing going on but the rent, baby.
But for fuck's sake, that's no reason to take your frustrations out on your house. In this shot alone, you've committed two-and-a-half of the Gay Gods' cardinal sins and we haven't even peeked at the bathroom.
First things first: take down that bitch of a shawl collection (and those pastel button-downs) from the quilt rack and put a quilt where it ought to be. You'll brighten up the room and prepare for an overdue garage sale in one fell swoop.
Next, take everything off the wall. How many times must we say it? Wallpaper and wall hangings are mutually exclusive. Why would you spend hundreds of dollars on the awful wallpaper and hundreds more on installation, just to punch holes in that shit? Go to the attic, bring down the leftovers from the roll, and patch up the mess you've made. If you have to sell the house, you'll thank me.
Last but not least, get a light switch plate that complements the wallpaper but doesn't blend in. It's a bedroom, not Disney's Haunted Fucking Mansion. On the rare occasions that require you to use an overhead light, you ought to be able to find it.