*Warning: I was up all night long and haven't gone to bed yet. This means I've been up for a good thirty hours now. This means this blog will be kind of rambling and potentially senseless. Enjoy!*
It was very windy last night in the Mount Washington Valley. This is nothing new. It seems that ever since Joe gave the go ahead for Marie to take down our trees (A long story. A long and bitter story.), the wind blows much harder for much longer than it used to. When it does this at night, it makes our bedroom really rather loud and some times, it makes it hard to fall asleep.
Of course, when you're an insomniac who can't turn off her brain, the wind doesn't much matter.
I pulled the plug on that whole sleeping thing at about two in the morning when I found myself getting angry at Joe and the dogs for all being soundly asleep. The dogs were snoring. Unrelated side note: it's adorable when the Gator Girl is snoring. It really is. She can be so dainty about some things (including snoring) that you can some times forget (some times) what a bruiser she is the rest of the time.
Anyway, I was irrationally angry and went downstairs to my office to try and work.
I love my office, I do. It's an entire room devoted to writing and other awesome things. And it's only going to get more awesome from here because soon (and I mean like tomorrow soon), I'll be the proud owner of a big ass bulletin board. I ordered it last night online and for whatever reason (a gift horse whose mouth I did not check out), I'm getting free two day shipping. It's a 6'x4' bulletin board that I'm going to put on the one open wall in my office. I have another bulletin board, next to my desk. This one's much smaller and is currently covered with a few pictures of family and friends, some flair (my brother and sister-in-law always find me the most awesome flair), a letter received from a past student (one actually validating my effectiveness as an educator) and a variety of other trinkets with a variety of back stories. I think Joe is concerned that the new board will just become a much larger version of this one. And it won't. At least I don't think so. The new board is supposed to become my big giant storyboard on which things vital to the construction of my fantasy world and the story that takes places within it will be posted.
Have I mentioned how very excited I am about this?
I also ordered that new bookcase to be placed in the living room. I don't have a shortage of books, not by any means, but the problem here will be deciding which books will be placed upon it. My books are very specifically organized. Well, they're getting less organized by the minute as the stacks grow more precarious, but I definitely have a system. Everything needs to be arranged by genre first. And then height. Then author. Then the year published and so on and so forth.
My books in my classroom where arranged this way. The kids quickly learned how crazy it made me when I'd come in in the morning to find things out of order. I don't want to suggest that they perhaps took advantage of my little OCD-ness but yeah, they totally did.
Adorable little snot rags. Precious youth.
Another story about my book sorting obsession that doesn't at all make me seem like a crazy dictator person with whom no one should be forced to live: When we first moved to the Mount Washington Valley, my family came to help us unpack and while I was on a food run, my mother set herself to unpacking my books onto an empty bookcase. This made Joe very nervous.
"You shouldn't touch her books," he told my mother. "She likes them arranged a certain way and you shouldn't touch them. She'll be mad. She'll think I did it and she'll be mad."
So what if I had packed the books in boxes by genre and author and publication date? Is that really so wrong? But, in all honesty, I wouldn't have been mad. Probably wouldn't have been mad. Just driven to correct the situation as quickly as possible.
My mother assured him she was just trying to get rid of boxes and I could rearrange them later when she was done. I should say my mother tried to assure Joe of this but he wasn't having any of it. That's why, when I returned home with our dinner spread, I was greeted at the door by my mother who said, "I touched your books. Not Joe. He told me not to touch them but I just put them on the shelves for you so I could get rid of the boxes and-"
It was then that I realized I had a problem.
Not that I've made any steps toward correcting this problem. I like my books how I like my books.
I'm leaning toward putting nice trade paperbacks and hardcover novels on this new bookshelf because they'll look the nicest and anyone who comes into the house could be looking at them. I'm not trying to impress people with the novels I read. How could I? I've very well documented the amount of time I've spent reading what some would consider to be embarrassing literature. But the hardcovers and the trade paperbacks will look nice in that case. The vampire romance novels will be hidden in my closet... that's not true. But they will be stashed upstairs where guests never go.
And we're moving on...
After my shopping spree last night, I started to write. In order to complete the goal I set at the beginning of the week, I need to finish writing eight chapters (eight chapters? Really? I didn't realize it was that many when I set this goal. That's a lot, isn't it? What the hell was I thinking?). By the end of the night, I still hadn't finished any but I was 1,000 words closer to it. This is good. This is very good. It's been so long since Productivity and I have shared the same air space, I almost didn't recognize it. I had to pull the plug on things at quarter past six when the sleepy trio got up but still, 1,000 words.
I'm going to say it again: 1,000 words.
Suddenly, I didn't mind having stayed up all night long. I've spent the last few hours getting errands and chores taken care of and out of the way (not to mention writing this blog) but I am now ready to spend the rest of the afternoon either asleep at this desk or pounding out another 1,000 words.
Let's hope for the latter.
One last thing to share before I go...Here's the conversation I had with Joe this morning:
Him: Happy Valentine's Day.
Me: That was yesterday.
Me: Don't worry. You bought me some very nice presents about which I am embarrassingly excited.
Him: Well, that was nice of me.
Me: Yes, it certainly was.
I shall post pictures of my office space (why does it say paper jam when there is no paper jam?) later in the week or the start of next week should the writing ninja in me hijack my body and force it to do nothing but write.
Here's hoping for the latter...