When we moved into this house three years ago, I was blessed with my own office (with ocean view!!) and a garden in the backyard. Michael made the office even cooler by building me a gorgeous desk out of 100-year-old reclaimed fir. He made the desk to fit the exact dimensions of the room.

It was beautiful. It was perfect. I loved my desk.

I imagine spreading out index cards and images and brainstorming, and generally occupying the entire, decedent space.

Instead, this is what a typical writing day looks like around there:

That’s me in the far right corner attempting to work on my newest novel. I am pretty much allowed the space of my keyboard, though today I had to  fight for even that much. Not complaining — much — cats do rule the world, at least around here.