Now that I’m back to working full time (my job is seasonal though I do work a couple of days a week in the winter), I am finding it more difficult keeping up with the work I would much rather do – writing.I am behind in my editing, behind in my writing, behind in my blogging and behind in catching up in everything writerly. Somehow I have to find that happy medium, perhaps a schedule? Maybe someday I will get all my ducks in a row.
The other event that has kept me away from my author tasks was working on a space for myself. However, it was a necessary evil and I had the sore muscles to prove it. You see, up until now (though it’s still not quite ready yet) my office has been the kitchen, the family room, somewhere else in the house, or sometimes not even at home. Unfortunately, those places have many distractions, such as pets, TV, and I hate to say it, but sometimes even family. It’s hard to edit when you have people talking to you.
I wanted a quiet place of my own and the only place I could think of was the storage room off of my bedroom.The room is 8 feet wide by 16 feet long and has a window overlooking the yard. The only problem was that it was so full of stuff that the only floor space left was about a two feet in front of the door.So late Saturday afternoon I began clearing the room. I filled bags and boxes with garbage, which my husband dutifully hauled away before I could change my mind. I filled several boxes with stuff for Goodwill. I rearranged the two shelving units and the two wardrobes. I was surrounded by memories, both happy and sad. Sometimes the things would bring a smile to my face and other times tears to my eyes. It was almost cathartic. By Sunday afternoon the space was clean and organized and I could easily look out the window without something blocking my way. I have begun to paint a small mural of a waterfall on the one side of the window and I have hung a whiteboard on the other side. All that is needed is a small desk and a chair and I will have the place I have been needing.