Jaleigh’s post yesterday got me thinking about where I write.
There’s my deck, which I love, except for the mosquitoes, and all the things that fall into my drinks. It’s great to sit out there in the evenings and stare at the jungle that will someday be a garden. It’ll be even better when it is a garden. But the deck chairs aren’t very comfortable for long periods, and as much as I like my iPad, sometimes I need to work on my (non-laptop) computer. Also, winter.
My desk in my office, where my computer lives, is where I spend most of my writing time. The walls are a cheery bright yellow, I can look out the window, I have my giant white board nearby, and my monitor is big enough to spread my words on. The desk is a standing desk, which can get tiring on weekends but is great during the week. But my office also has a huge number of distractions–aside from everything else on my computer and the entire internet, there are constant reminders of bills to pay, phone calls to make, and other household-related stuff like dusting and vacuuming.
I do a lot of writing where I am right now: the break room at work, looking at the roof of the hotel next door. And trees. And the roofing job at the nearby apartment complex. It’s not a bad spot, but there are definite drawbacks, like that my lunch hour is only so long.
Finally, there’s a collection of coffee shops and libraries, which all have their plusses and minuses.
So many choices, but none of them have what my ideal writing spot would provide: room service and a maid.