So, I finally have my home office set back up. I have it in my oldest son’s old bedroom now that he has moved out. It’s nice to have a space of my own again. All my books are out on their shelves for the first time in over a year. I forgot how many damn books I have. It took me almost twelve hours to sort them and organize them and put them on the shelves. But it was worth it. I was even able to part with alot of books that I know I will never read. They will go to the Salvation Army and hopefully find homes with people who will enjoy them.
I believe that personal space is very important to a person’s emotional well-being. I know that human beings are social animals that need frequent contact with other human beings, but time alone is important too. I spoze its more important for some people than others. I, for example, am happy being alone most of the time. I am perfectly content not seeing or talking to anyone one else for days at a time. My boyfriend, on the other hand, loves socializing and being the center of attention. Talking is like breathing to him. He would die if he stopped.
So for me, having personal space is very important. Someplace I can go and close the door when I can’t handle being in a room with other people anymore. Where all my stuff is, where no one else is allowed to go or touch things. And, hopefully, a place where I can focus on my writing. As Virginia Woolf once said, “a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction…” I have the room, now I just need the money. Unlike Woolf, I don’t have an inheritance.