A Place to Write

I did it. I finally made myself a space to write. For years now I’ve had my armchair be my space to write and to do well, everything else I do. I game there, I read there, I watch television there. I eat my dinner there. But my armchair is in the middle of our living room and not only is it in the center of activity in the house it also wasn’t a designated place where I go to work. So sitting in my recliner never enforced the idea that I am here to work. I usually would think of a story and then jot down the idea and get back to gaming. Setting up an actual place to be alone was difficult in our tiny house, but I did it. Over the holiday I spent a few days cleaning out the garage which was previously impassable and set a table and chair to one side and I carved out a nice nook for myself. I spent most of Saturday and Sunday just sitting in my new writing space simply enjoying the feeling that having a place for myself gave to me. The place emanates a power that was previously lacking in the armchair in the middle of the house. The space demands work and punishes idleness. I should have done this years ago