I guess I’m not one you would call a girly girl. A lot of things that are supposed to interest women actually confuse me. Things like cooking, cleaning, decorating and getting gussied up leave me cold. For the most part, this hasn’t been a problem. Well, except for the cleaning. My lack of interest in cleaning has gotten me into situations in the past that have caused me a lot of embarrassment and shame. But, other than that, I’ve gotten by just fine with my lack of domestic skills.
Occasionally though an odd urge strikes. One night a couple of months ago I really needed to make cupcakes, but I don’t even own a bag of flour or sugar, and the eggs in my refrigerator expired months ago. (I did, oddly enough, own a cupcake baking tin – I purchased that years ago as a way of holding beads during a short beading phase.) The next day I bought some cake mix and canned frosting and actually used my oven for baking. They turned out OK. But the urge hasn’t struck since, much to The Boyfriend’s chagrin. He really, really would like me to take an interest in cooking. “Really, it’s fun. You’ll get into it.” Nah. Where’s the take out menu?
The other night I was sitting in my home office where, because that is where my computer lives, I spend a lot of time. This room has always depressed me. It’s small. It’s dark. It’s got this weird ass sink in the corner. And the closet has these ugly sliding mirror doors on it. With NaNoWriMo right around the corner, the idea of spending more time than I have to in here suddenly sent me into a funk. At first I called my old buddy who is a feng shui teacher and consultant. I had her help me with my old apartment, and even though it was traumatic experience, the result was worth it. As usual, she wasn’t home. So, I called my friend Annie and told her my plight.
Everyone needs to have a friend like Annie. Having a friend like Annie is like having your own personal cheerleader. You can be in a really sucky place, and Annie will still find some way to find a positive spin.
LB: Annie, my boyfriend left me, my cat died and I’m getting fired, I feel like shit.
Annie: Oh LB, this is just a transition for you. I really sense that things are going to turn around into some new and exciting for you. But you have to discard all this old garbage first. Isn’t this exciting??
LB: Ya think?
Annie: Oh honey, I don’t think it, I know it.
You get the idea. So, I called her to complain about my sucky office and how uninspiring it was. She immediately started spewing out suggestions for improving my space. By the time I got off the phone with her I had a shopping list and I was energized to change my depressing office into an inviting writer’s lair.
Today The Boyfriend and I started shopping for the big transformation. I bought a small fountain pump for the sink. Rather than being just an ugly sink, it is now a little fountain that delights the ear and provides a source of freshly oxygenated water for Alaska. I need to add some plants around it and put some glass pebbles to make it all pretty, but having the water tinkling in the background is quite soothing. I also bought some red paint for the walls. Yes, red. The Boyfriend flinched as I showed him the colors I was thinking of, but hey, tough titties, this is my office and if I want to do my work in a bordello or a womb that is my own damn business.
So, this we have a good start. I still need to find a new desk, and do the actual painting and such. But, I feel inspired. Thanks, Annie.