I'm fortunate to have a lovely bedroom converted to an office in our house. So it's a bit unfortunate that I have so much trouble writing there. This is a serious first world problem, I know, but I prefer to leave the house and write in coffeehouses and libraries.
Writing takes both physical and mental space. And when I'm depressed, it's harder to focus at home. With a clean table and a fresh cup of java, my mind clears.
The main culprit interfering with my concentration at home is our fifty-four pound yellow Labrador "puppy" (she is 13 months old) Scarlet. On social media, she's #ninetyninepercentgooddog. She's so much less mischievous than she was just a few months ago, but I'm hypervigilant and every sound makes me wonder if she's shredded yet another chair or killed another television.
Now that Ed, my husband, is retired, he often stays home part of the day and helps keep the pupperina out of trouble. But he's a busy guy taking classes at The Ohio State University, volunteering at the Upper Arlington Senior Center, and remaining active in politics. Some days, he's gone most of the day.
When I need a break from the pupperina and don't want to leave her alone for eight hours, I ship her off to Puptown Lounge for doggy daycare. From the looks of the photos they take, I'm pretty sure she doesn't mind.
Labels: coffeehouse, coffeeshops, Colin's Coffee, ninetyninepercentgooddog, office, Puptown Lounge, Scarlet, writing
