Years ago I used to fight with my kids for my sacred space to write in. I had a room that was called my study where I had a desk and a typewriter — yeah, I started writing in the dark ages. Problem was, the study soon became the room where stuff was stored when nobody knew where else to put it. So I would have an odd assortment of boxes and bins and things stacked in and around the desk and filing cabinet that made finding my space a challenge.
Then if we had company, either the company stayed in the office and slept on the sofa bed or one of the kids did. First obstacle to overcome was finding the sofa bed under the piles of things “stored” in the office. Then came the challenge of figuring out if it was an invasion of a guest’s privacy if I went into the study now and then to work.
Now that the kids are grown and out of the house, I have an office all to myself. Or at least I thought I did, until the cats decided they would like to share the space with me.
Wait. Did I say “share?”
The cat’s have taken over the space.
This week, John has decided that he will help me with my writing. He has taken over half of my desk, and periodically reaches down to play with the mouse or keyboard.
Misty, our calico, took over my office chair weeks ago, and she does not know the meaning of “share” either. She glowers at me when I move her so I can sit down. Then she jumps up behind me and pushes on my back to get me to move.
The last time one of the kids came to visit, he laughed because my office chair was rolled aside and I had a kitchen chair in front of my desk. When I told him why, he asked why I didn’t just move the cat.
I glowered at him.