Damn Chair

Let’s be clear, there is not a good spot where I live to sit and write. In truth, there really isn’t a spot for me in that regard. There’s of course a desk with a computer that I occasionally use (it’s the family computer and is in a communal spot), but most times I sit somewhere — anywhere — with my laptop to take care of the task. Three particular places: the living room, the bedroom, the kitchen. Having my own spot is really the goal. Having my own area — a “cave” if you will — would be preferable.

In a way, this all sounds like a list of excuses. They are and they aren’t. I already have to juggle my writing time around family and work. The fact that I am averaging over my target across all the days so far this year, I can’t really agree that complaining about where I write, or the conditions of said places, are excuses. They are gripes though.

For starters, the damn chairs in two of those four places are not comfortable. The other two are only moderately more so. Then there is the distractions each place provides, with the most comfortable being the spot with the most likelihood of my being distracted: the living room. And as far as the bedroom goes, that is the least comfortable chair given that the whole setup is a weekday setup so that I can work remotely from my day job (when I’m not traveling). And my view of the bedroom is that is should be used for only two things: sleeping and [redacted due to profane terminology]. Work… ummm… *cough* works there as I am able to get away from distractions and the other occupants (aka, my family). Besides work though, it metaphorically sucks as a place to write.

It’s more than that though. There is something about location that either can enhance or degrade creativity. Simply put: I would like to have a spot of my own. A place that I can build up as mine, with things I like surrounding me, fit to what I like, including a high enough desk, a comfortable chair, and various items I find inspiring and energizing. Let’s face it, such things do help creativity, with occasional journeys to change atmosphere to jump-start stagnation when it occurs. Mostly though, I think that I just want a comfortable damn chair.

People have definitely done far more with far less. These conditions I am writing in aren’t the end of the world; they aren’t a deal breaker in any way. Happy with them or not, I will keep writing, even if my ass is sore.

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