Migraine: 5
Steph: 0
(just in case you were keeping score. Note: It didn’t stop me from placing a nice, theraputic order from Staples, due to arrive tomorrow.)

During the construction that we’re having done this summer, I’m getting an even bigger office. Most people would be thrilled about getting a bigger kitchen and family room. Me? I’m going for world domination of the second floor.

Granted, I love my office the way it is. (you all remember I’m not good with change, right?) The previous owner left a wall of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and another random bookshelf, and I’m all set up and cozy in there. My desktop is brand new, very fast, and the room is painted red. It’s the first room we every completely finished in the house, so I’m doubly attached to it. It’s all mine (oh look, the only child in me is coming out) as attested to by the husband when I find him in there. He messes up the keyboard, had the nerve to put his favorites on my computer and moves my papers to the floor to get more desk space.

Did I mention it’s my office?

Anyway, when the architect first heard our ideas, he drew up a lot of different sketches. He was trying to talk us out of expanding the office. One sketch actually took away half the office and made it into an open-hallway reading area, complete with benches. Pretty, but no.

The next split the room, put in two closets and made it an actual bedroom, moving the office to a small space where the treadmill is now. Uh-uh, not going to fly. Because is he not seeing all the books? My desk? I countered by asking if we couldn’t add even more room to the office by smashing through the wall to the small room. He and the husband looked at each other and shook their heads.

Finally, he got the picture and just made the office bigger. With no closets to take up the space better spent on housing books. And when the husband asked, what happens if we sell the house? People are going to want closets. My response was as followed:

1. First, I said something non-RWA approved.
2. followed closely by, if we do this construction, I am never leaving this house
3. followed closely by, if we do ever move, and the potential buyers ask about the closets, I will tell them to build their own.
4. I finished up by repeating response #1.

And when the contractor said, I can have the upstairs completed first, I smiled. Who cares about running water when I can get my computer set-up and my books back in order in my brand-new, bigger than ever office? Who cares about the downstairs?

(For the record, the husband says he does.)

So, the point of the long, drawn out backstory is to ask you the question, is there one room in your house where you get the most writing done?

I tend to write anywhere I can, especially during the day when the three year old and I are hanging out. I’ve got my laptop set up and have gotten used to churning out a few pages in between Elmo and Teletubbies. But my upstairs office it the crank-it-out room. I go up there, mainly on weekends, shut the door and when I walk out I’ve got a ton of pages.

I’ve got a lot of the same distractions in that room, the internet being a big one, and I don’t unplug it. I crank up the music, sit at the old keyboard and old monitor (that are now hooked up to my brand new computer) and think, it’s more comfortable working on the laptop. I like the keys and the screen better and I don’t get carpal tunnel from the laptop the same way I do with the external mouse. Also, there are all the unread books, mocking me, why are you working? Come read me. No one will know. But I ignore all that because something about the office says, work.

I need to spend a lot of time in my office this weekend.

Steph T.