I’ve been meaning to write this post for about a year. But… Well, I suppose writing it meant accepting a reality I wasn’t ready to embrace. Until now.
I used to write in the guest bedroom. I had a huge table to
spread out all sorts of piles. I had a hutch with a rollout keyboard tray that
stored mountains of binders. But more than all that, I often had a few blessed
hours of peaceful quiet.
When Covid hit, my husband got the guest room (you would have to call it
office now as it no longer services guests) to set up shop when he started working
from home. I’m not jealous or anything; he is the one supporting the family.
I became a transient writer who floated from space to space trying to find comfort. I avoided the bedroom for some time, even going so far as to start a construction project to delay the inevitable.
 |
| Demolition Day! |
 |
| My “Book Nook” reclaimed that hidden space in the attic of the first floor |
Eventually I settled in the bedroom.
In October I decided I needed paper space and found this cute vintage campaign style drawer cabinet. It’s a military style with handles on the side so you could carry it to a new front. It unfortunately does not fit copy paper, but the drawers perfectly hold journals.
Collapsing under my piles of WIPs in November, I found a
hand me down file cabinet which I painted and upholstered. I love that it opens
from the top like a box of chocolates, and I savor picking out the MS that is
getting focus each day.
My birthday in December brought a mechanical keyboard. Okay,
it brought a few of them, before I settled on “brown switches” to give that
perfect typewriter tactile experience. Love this.
In January I had a toddler-level meltdown that the desk I
was working at was too tiny. (IT WAS!) I got myself a desk from Amazon for
$100. [Um, stinking skunk butt, it’s only $75 now. Well, I wish I hadn’t seen that…] It has
a little storage space and a nice big surface for working and for keeping
pretty little things on, like my mousepad from Donna Marie, my first year of
NaPiBoWriWee mug (or whatever is holding my tea that day), and the glass trivet
I made during a NJSCBWI event.
And it’s all mine. And it is enough.
And I can finally say, “Goodbye for now, old office, dear friend,
and faithful companion. Perhaps we shall meet again…
“…But like don’t wait for me, because hubby is going to work
from home a few days a week forever. So like you’re kind of in his hands now.
Sorry about all the stressful conference calls you have to endure. At least you don’t
have to listen to me babbling about whether a wave shushes or swishes for hours
on end. But yeah, miss you too.”
Oh. And of course, Hello New Office. Nice to meet you.
