Early on I thought I needed absolute aloneness to write. I lived on the farm in WV, with just a baby and a husband to demand my attention. We weren't geographically remote from town, but it was a psychic universe away from St Louis, the daily hustle of the Mega Beer Company and designer heels.
My office was the front upstairs bedroom that ran the width of our 1904 farmhouse. Every sound I made--scraping the chair across the wood floor, dropping a pencil, laughing aloud--echoed off of the bare, horsehair plaster walls and enormous windows. I had a comforting sense of all the people who had lived in that room before me. My daughter's room wasn't far away and I could hear her easily. A baby isn't really all that intrusive, unless she's crying or feeling particularly lonesome herself. I loved to write in that room, with its day bed and single rug from my mother-in-law's attic, the 1930s chiffarobe and lady's shallow dressing table/desk. I spent hours at a time in there, not even listening to music, but writing and writing.
One of the wonderful advantages/curses of being self-employed is the whole working-alone-in-jammies privilege. I wore a lot of sweatpants back then. I thought they were an expected part of the new baby package, plus it was just darned nice not to have to get terribly dressed every day. No one who ever came by actually cared about what I was wearing. They just wanted to hang out with the princess. Kind of a three strikes in the fashion department situation. I look back on it and think I just kind of gave up. Or maybe I was simply too overwhelmed with the newness of it all--a new baby and a new life-- to worry about clothes. Funny how one's dignity (and modesty) can take a long term hiatus once one has lain split open and for all purposes naked on a gurney in a room filled with strangers.
Do I sound sentimental? It's probably the Christmas season, or the fact that I have some fairly intense flu symptoms after getting my H1N1 shot on Friday. Bleh.
But I think it was the chaos at Panera that made me reflective about writing in a quiet space. There I was in my mismatched hoodie and sweatpants, my hair thoroughly unpresentable, ready to get to work. And I did work for several hours, despite the fact that everyone in town was there buying coffee and muffins at once. God bless my iPod. I almost feel alone when I have those earbuds in--it's my own private space. As for the clothes--It's not like I didn't occasionally get all schlubby in my pre-Walmart days. The sweats were just more expensive. It seemed everyone in town was buying coffee and muffins at once. The writing went very well until I got distracted by the lunch crowd. I fret if I'm taking up too much space, if some trio can't get a table because I couldn't find a two-top near a plug, if someone even glances at my open computer. (Oops, is my anxiety disorder showing?!) Finally, after I'd moved once so another person could have a plug, I gave up. It was just too much. The muse had fled about twenty minutes before I did.
I still like writing in the quiet. The house is almost always quiet when the boy is at school and the animals are lying about the floor. But when I'm home, I get distracted by the laundry/phone/blog/twitter/UPS/popcorn. It's a wonder I get any writing done at all!
So, no picture for Day 92. I never really did get photo-ready dressed, and was appalled to realize around 9 p.m. that I hadn't even washed my face. (Teeth, yes. Face, no.) Thank goodness my honey loves me even if I'm not photo-ready.
Day 93 Ensemble:
Ta-da! It was another red day. Now, I saw this sweater in gray on a woman on one of my airplanes last weekend and she was wearing it up around her neck with a white collar just peeking out (and askew, I might add). Don't know what was up with that. I definitely don't like how thin the sweater is and the way my, uh, breasts, are highlighted. Maybe it's not so evident in real life, but it's pretty darn obvious here. (Remember to NEVER wear a white bra beneath a black knit. If you have your picture taken, you'll see why. Nude doesn't really work either. Stick with a black bra.)
Nine West jeans (Sam's): $15.55 (I just re-checked the receipt); Faded Glory sweater: $10; To the Max blouse: $3 (clearance); earrings: $7; necklace $8; F'Uggs: $30
Total: about $74
Many thanks to my friend and fellow room mother, Eleanor Gillespie for taking this pic at the kids' Christmas party.
I was looking a little pale. Had to stint on the makeup so I would be there to have hot chocolate ready for the little darlings when they got back from caroling.
George sweater: $10; Calvin Klein cords: $17 (Sam's); Earth Spirit shoes: $30: Norma Kamali jacket: $20 (love this jacket--so glad it was 50 degrees outside); necklace: $8; earrings: $7; No Boundaries belt: $7; scarf: $5 (I would die without these scarves!)
Thanks for all the feedback on the plans for the blog--It helped a lot. Please do always let me know your thoughts about what you'd like to see/hear about.
Hope your day is full of blessings. Off to the Sam's satellite in mere minutes...