On writing at work

If you have ready any of my posts on this blog before you know that I am a freak about organization and multi-tasking.  I am on a quest to be as efficient as possible during every second of every day.  We don't need to to delve in and over analyze this for the umpteenth time.  It is what it is, that's all there is to it. 

I am one of those fortunate people who has a fairly flexible job.  When I say flexible I mean that I'm not chained to my desk for the entire eight hours of the workday.  I can take breaks, I can surf the web, and occasionally, I use my free time at work to compose delightfully witty blog posts.  It's part of my desire to effectively manage my time.  And usually when I effectively manage my time at work, I end up with, *gasp* down time!  Totally, freaking, awesome. 

So when I find myself with minutes to spare I might pop open a new Microsoft Word document, start typing away on my chosen blog subject, then I'll just....stop.  I'll go back to work, wait for my next break, click back to the Word document, and then.....nothing.  I sit and I stare.  Some days I'm just so bursting with words and ideas that there is no stopping.  I'll breeze through an entire post and never look back.  But lately, the whole writing at work thing just isn't happening. 

I've decided the reason I can no longer write at work is because there are too many people around.  No, they aren't hovering behind me, breathing down my neck, reading every word I type, but they are here, in the same room, and for whatever reason their very presence distracts me to no end.  Then there's the issue of inspiration.  When I'm at work I'm surrounded by work "things."  This is not so conducive to penning a personal blog.  And my work environment just does not lend itself to being a place where I am completely comfortable and inspired to write.  

There were a few times when I would bring my short stories into the office and try to work on my lunch hour or on my breaks.  Oh wow....that didn't get me very far.  Same problems I listed above.  It just. doesn't. work.  I figured the blog would be easier, maybe because I didn't have so many elements to worry about such as plot, dialogue, and characters.  I just assumed that writing my thoughts and observations wouldn't require such an inspiring atmosphere.  Apparently, I was wrong.  Writing at work is not the solution for me, in fact I think it lends itself to my frustration because I end up getting pissed off that I can't write while sitting at my work desk.  So guess what?  No more. 

From now on the creative genius that is this blog will likely be developed at my house, down in my office, in the early mornings or evenings.  There I can be completely alone and comfortable and able to zone in and give these posts (and my stories) the attention they deserve.  I truly believe this is an important step for me.  I am learning about my preferred writing habits and figuring out what I need to do in order to be more productive.  So, I feel good about my decision and hopefully the noted improvements of these postings. 

P.S.  I am writing this at work.  If it sucks, that's why.

The power of a shower curtain

I'm not sure if I've ever mentioned the following fact on my blog before, but I hate my upstairs bathroom.  Luckily, Dean and I bought a house with two bathrooms so I am not always forced to endure the awfulness that is our upstairs bathroom. 

I suppose I'm exaggerating just a little bit.  I've definitely seen worse bathrooms in my lifetime.  But I think that when you own your own house you just want everything to be exactly the way you like it....and I have to say I don't care to have a bathroom that serves as a tribute to the design styles of the 1970's.  

One of the most endearing features of our bathroom has got to be the shower doors.  They are really something, let me tell you.  One of the doors has a glass front, and the other one is frosted glass with a towel bar, covered in hard water stains.  In other words, the doors don't match and they are pretty hideous.  While the shower doors are just the tip of the ice burg in my bathroom nightmare (there's the yellow, green and blue floor that is starting to come up around the tub, the toilet that is barely hanging on, the yellow tile in the shower that is starting to show its age), they are the first thing I notice when I walk in the bathroom, and thus one of the things I have been anxious to get rid of. 

Low and behold, the moment of truth came this weekend via a simple suggestion from my mother.  Why don't we just take the doors off the track? she says.  Hey, great idea!  So five minutes later, the doors are off and my bathtub/shower is fully exposed, and looks much, much bigger.  Then my handyman of a father take a screwdriver and removes the top part of the shower enclosure, making it much easier to put up our expandable shower curtain rod. 

I was instantly rejuvenated and inspired.  The doors were gone and even though other problems in the bathroom were still evident, one of the biggest ones had been removed in the blink of an eye.  A quick trip to Bed Bath and Beyond later that afternoon and I now have a completely different bathroom.  The curtain hides the icky yellow tile (although I still see it when I shower), and it also hides the nasty old shower enclosure (which will come out when we finally remodel the rest of the bathroom).  I hung up the curtain and spent a good five minutes standing there staring.  It didn't even look like the same bathroom.  I was thrilled beyond words. 

This is the story of how a simple shower curtain changed my weekend, and surprisingly managed to alter my attitude toward my upstairs bathroom.  I no longer cringe when I walk down the hall and happen to glance in the bathroom, because it isn't two ugly old shower doors staring back at me.....it's a lovely spa-inspired shower curtain. 

I'm sure there's a metaphor here somewhere.  Something along the lines of taking things we dislike in our lives and making small changes to them so they appear new and exciting, or at least more to our liking.  Something about how the smallest changes can make the biggest impacts on our overall outlook of a situation.  Regardless of the implied metaphorical musings, I am just overall thrilled to be rid of the awful shower doors, and thankful for the wide range of shower curtain selections carried by Bed, Bath and Beyond. 

On fashion

I have this love/hate relationship with fashion, and with shopping in general.  There are days when I am totally inspired to dress to the nines, accessorize to the max, and really step out looking like a total fashion plate.  Then there are those other six days of the week when the effort of simply getting dressed seems about as daunting as climbing Mt. Everest.  The trouble with me and fashion is that I don't really know where I fit in that whole crazy world.  I go from preppy to modern to sporty to sloppy all in the span of a week.  So, much like other aspects of my life, I don't quite know how I'm trying to dress.

Clothing can and does send a very strong message about us and our personalities, even if we don't realize it.  What we wear can sometimes send a stronger message than the words that come out of our mouths, and let's face it, it's usually the first thing that people notice about us.  We can dress to become any type of person we want to be, even if what shows on the outside doesn't exactly match up on the inside.  But that's a subject for an entirely different post. 

I'll touch on the issue of shopping in just a minute, but another thing that drives me crazy about fashion in general is all the other girls who can so effortlessly (or seemingly effortlessly) pull off a look and make it appear that anyone can do it.  Skinny jeans?  Yea, they're great for girls who are tall and have pencil thin legs....not so much for this muscular 5'2'' girl.  I see women all the time who can just "do" certain styles and look fantastic.  They can wear jeans and a t-shirt and look cute and put together.  I try to pull off the same thing and just come off looking dumpy.  Now, I watch enough "What Not to Wear" to know that we all have to dress our body types accordingly, but sometimes I can't help wishing that I had the type of body structure that looks good in everything.  Of course, I realize that would be way too easy. 

Now as for shopping.  This is something I enjoy to no end, although my bank account at times wishes I could show a bit more self control.  The thing is, Pullman isn't exactly a shopping metropolis.  The Macy's in Moscow is about as good as it gets, and after awhile I just feel like I am buying the exact same clothes over, and over again.  This probably explains why all the jeans in my closet look. exactly. the same.  And it's not just because they are all denim.  Limited shopping options leads to frustration with outfit creation.  What I mean by this is that I can put together a great outfit one day, feel totally inspired to do the same thing the next, and then come to the realization that there isn't anything else in my closet that can live up to the challenge.  Of course, then there are the days when I just don't care and jeans and a sweatshirt is as creative as I get.  

Fashion is just overall tricky.  And when you don't really know what kind of look you are going for, it gets even more tricky.  Right now I feel like I am caught between still dressing like a poor college student, and a more or less young professional.  I wouldn't say I'm a fashionista, but I do love staying somewhat up-to-date on the latest fads and trends (even if I won't/can't wear them).  But I keep coming back to the idea that clothing is a reflection of our inner selves and personalities.  To what extent is this true?  

Lately I have been giving a lot of thought to this notion, and to the question of who I am as a person.  I suppose this is turning into a summer of self-reflection for me because all these ponderings about clothing and personality are really tied into the larger question I have been grappling with....who the hell am I?  While I am not yet prepared to delve into that topic, I have a feeling I will be giving it a lot more thought over the weekend.  Maybe while shopping.       

Reading urges

I don't know what it is about summer, but during this warm and wonderful season I always get the urge to lock myself in a room (or lay out on a blanket next to the pool) and reread every wonderful, fantastic book I have ever read in my life.  Crazy, huh?

I think this stems back from my youth, when I used to participate in the summer reading challenge at the public library.  The concept was pretty easy.  You set a goal of how many books you plan to read during the summer, then you keep a list of all the books you successfully complete.  If by the end of the summer you reach your goal, you get some type of fabulous prize.  I don't quite remember what the prize was....probably because I was too focused on seeing how many books I could finish in the 2.5 months before school started to really care.  I was probably the only kid in the program who cared more about the act of reading books than getting to the ultimate end prize.  

If you read this blog with any regularity (all two of you), then you know I am a bit of a nerd when it comes to reading.  And when I say nerd I mean that I love to read, will read anywhere at anytime, and have willingly chosen to stay home and read on more than one occasion.  I don't see this as a character flaw, in fact I see this as a time investment toward my hopefully future career as a full-time writer.  I firmly believe that all good writers are also avid readers so really, I am just doing what I believe goes along with the job description.  

But back to the urge to read.  Dean and I spent a long and relaxing weekend at my parent's house for the 4th of July holiday, and while there we crammed in a number of hours by the pool soaking up the sun and listening to the sprinklers.  Seriously, it was pretty close to absolute perfection.  And what made the entire scene even more perfect in my eyes was the book in my hands.  I used my poolside time to finally finish up Margaret George's wonderfully researched novel Elizabeth I, and then proceeded to start a new book on my Kindle that I have been wanting to read for years.  A little gem entitled Sex and the City.  I mean really, I've been watching the show for ages so why shouldn't I see where it all stemmed from?  And it all felt so good.  To finish a book then instantly start on a new one.  To have open hours, open DAYS, that I could fill doing nothing but reading.  Of course reading wasn't all I did, but the notion that if I wanted to I very well could, that alone was enough for me.

Throughout the weekend I often times felt the urge to sit out on the porch with not just one, but a pile of books next to me.  A pile of soon to be conquests, a to-do list to be checked off, one glorious read after another.  Yesterday when we arrived home I sat down in my office and examined all the books on the shelves; some I've read numerous times, others I still haven't found the time to finish (or start).  I sat there and stared at the spines, took some off the shelf and read the backs, and I instantly wanted to read them all.  Again and for the first time. 


As I said earlier, I'm not sure if it's something to do with summer or something to do with being on vacation and finally having the time to dedicate to marathon reading, but I am in such a state right now it's all I can do to force myself to get dressed, go to work, and not lay around on the couch all day and indulge myself with book after book.  

Ahhh....why didn't I become a teacher?  They get summers off!