It is done! A tiny space of our basement is now a brand new office. Two desks sit at angles facing into the room. (After I was chastised never to have a desk face a wall.) One for me. One for Mr. L. One day we will get real desks but for now these tables and chairs will help create a little nook we can each call our own.
As part of this renovation, we opened up our guest room wall and it all seems so much bigger, spacious for a basement. Who does not love the smell of newly painted walls and new flooring?
But now comes the tricky part. Moving all our storage back in, mindfully. Carefully. With kids underfoot who are desperately want their play space back. Little by little I try to attack the area but it’s going slow. I promised my older daughter I would have it done in two weeks.
She rolled her eyes and said, “More like a couple of months.”
After firmly stating we do not talk to parents like that part of me had to admit she is right. I am the queen of too many projects, too little time. It’s a condition passed down generations as my own mother told me.
“Just like your grandmother. Don’t you remember all the piles of projects she had?”
I didn’t until she mentioned that but then my memory started spewing forth images of clippings and half written letters laying all over her desk. Books laying with corners turned marking her spot. A drafting table full of poems. Laundry piles hidden behind curtains. It is the curse of the multi-tasker or people whose attention is easily diverted. Christmas decorations sort of put away in Easter and shoved into her storage area is a crime I am guilty of.
A day for me isn’t about one project. It is about multiple projects. With multiple children my time is spent either trying to reorganize my girls craft areas, pick up my little guys small little cars, write a little, get at least a load of laundry done, make food and then try to manage to get through a little of the home organization projects. Oh and maybe have a shower. Spring cleaning coupled with now, reorganizing our largest storage space. It’s just life.
But to be fair, part of it is simply just part of being me. When I went to university and when I worked it was all about multiple projects. Multiple papers due so five different text books laying around with five different coloured highlighters in my hand. I went into marketing, the best place for an innate multi-tasker juggling many different mini projects and learning how to prioritize which one got done first. Then I had more than one kid. It just seems to follow me this ability to switch my focus off and on at will and juggle everything.
A goal of renovating our space to get a proper office was two-fold. One, the hope that Mr. L will no longer have an excuse not to work from home a little more often. Something he keeps promising will happen. Two, I get the chance to have a single place to do my stuff. Write, bills, hide. Whatever that may be.
So, I no longer have the excuse of “well I can’t write right now, my space is too cluttered.” Or “that budget we need to do. It can’t get done, how am I supposed to work amidst colouring books and kids homework?” I now have the space.
I just need to buckle down and get down to some serious writing. No more excuses. The new office has doors, is soundproof and far off in a corner of our basement where it is harder for all of them to find me. That is all I need. Right?
But first I have to re-organize kids old toys, clear off the dining room table, dust the drywall dust off all our items, write this blog and cook muffins. Then I’ll go use my new beautiful office. I hope.