Space

The final frontier.

Well I got my goddess pose, and it was great, as always. Today we were reminded to leave room for opportunity and ourselves, and to take up space because we’re worth it. I think I’m doing that. I personally also need to remember to not leave dead space. I am really good at wasting time. Like gold-medal good. Some people hate sitting still and doing nothing. There are times when I’m like that, but for the most part I really enjoy being quiet and alone and passive. That’s great for like a short amount of time on occasion, especially for busy people, but I am pointedly not a busy person, and I can lose myself in that. Of the seven, I am most guilty of sloth.

But I can combat this by drinking coffee. It used to be that caffeine didn’t really do anything to me, but in the last five-ish years, I lose my goddamned mind when I get some. I just had six ounces of light roast and holy shit, I think my heart is going to burst out of my chest, and just sitting here is excruciating. Like, I’m happy that I’m typing and getting this out and being productive, but fuck me do I feel an intense urge to clean the entire house. I’m in the middle of that already, I was just thinking, okay, take ten minutes to write a little of a post then get back to it, but I am really itching to get back up and move furniture.

So I got a new (to me) dining table from my mom (hence the need to move furniture). It’s about 100 years old and was made by the mother of a friend of my grandparents (so like, the generational equivalent of my great-grandmother, and I’m a 31 year old lady whose grandparents were born in the 20s). I think it’s especially cool because it’s woodworking done by a woman in probably the 1930s, and I like the look of it–it reminds me of a viking hall which is the feel I’ve always wanted for a dining room. I also grew up around this table, I had birthday parties around it, put together puzzles on it, played house underneath it, so it’s admittedly sentimental.

The only issue is we already have a dining room table that we got a few years ago off Amazon. I got a counter-height, square table that we really loved for the time we had it. It did come damaged from the warehouse, multiple edges chipped, so when I advised Amazon, I got a deep discount on it (since there was no way it was getting shipped back) and that made me love the table even more. Over the years I’ve done a number of crafts on it, so there are some gashes and paint stains and hot glue globs stuck to it, and remember it started out banged up, so it’s not in the kind of shape that most other people would want, so I’m in the process of figuring out what to do with it and its chairs (too high for the new one). I do not like to hoard, so things must be useful, or they must go.

I’m a fan of space, but not of waste.

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Writing Nest

I’ve heard tell that people who work from home need to cultivate a work-specific space to keep themselves on task. This may not apply to everyone, but in my experience I like to feel “in the zone” in order to do serious writing. When I was in high school, I had a desk in my room and a desktop, no laptop, so my work (including terrible, terrible fiction) was done at that desk. When my butt hit the chair, a switch flipped, and I turned into an author. (I also turned into a monkey because there was a spot on the wall I used to prop my foot up on, equal with my shoulder (I don’t fucking know) and I eventually wore the paint away. Gross.) Over a decade later, I realized this might be exactly what I need now.

So I made myself a writing nest. See, before, I used to go “OK I’m going to do some serious writing today, but first I need to gather all this nonsense and get comfortable!” But now I just have all that nonsense right there in an already comfortable (but not too comfortable) space, so I just need to plant my ass and go.

My writing nest is currently a corner of our living room. Husband and I inhabit an open concept bungalow which, as I’ve mentioned, gives shape to a weird living room, but the desk nook I’ve carved out fits perfectly. I wanted to not face a wall with my back on an open space (always be vigilant!) This allows me to survey the whole house at one time which leads to a simultaneous pro/con: I can see everything. If the house is messy, it’s distracting, but it’s also motivation to keep things clean. But if I can see everything, I’m not concerned with what I’m potentially missing like if I were locked away in a room or even just turned away. That’s only a vague concept, but it works for me. Mostly I just don’t want some ghost sneaking up behind me.

So here’s the set up:

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Cat included.

The desk was a cheap Amazon purchase. I originally wanted white because I got carried away with the aesthetic I see all over YouTube, but the fact is I’m a messy bitch and black matches the color of my soul anyway, so here we are. The side table is one of, if not the first table Husband and I purchased when we moved to Florida. It provides space for animals, stuffed and real. I wanted to forgo a traditional desk chair for a couple reasons. I don’t really care for arms on chairs as I like to sit cross-legged, and since I knew the nook would be in the living room, I thought a living room chair would be more elegant. I was fucking spot on.

I know what you’re thinking: “Is she really so extra that she needs a laptop and a Chromebook at the same time?” The answer is yes, so let’s just move on from that.

The whiteboard came from Costco, and is for to-do lists and plotting. I like to plot with sticky notes so scenes can be moved around, and the whiteboard provides a nice corral for that. Added LED string lights because the internet told me I have to. Thanks, Target! The large calendar is obviously for a desk, but I need it on the wall. It’s staying in this photo, but it keeps falling down, so I’m not utilizing it to its full potential. My life is hard, you guys.

I know I have a lot of stuffed animals. It’s a problem.

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A few details:

And finally my view out over my realm:

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Dining table COVERED in nonsense, thankfully shadowed in the back.

So there you have it. A space where, when my butt hits the chair, I’m in writing mode. Or The Sims mode. Wait…did I…did I do this right?