Insomniac Nightmares

My writing area is (mostly) set up in the new house. It’s in the upstairs loft, butted up against the half-wall that looks down on the living room.

It pleases me. I don’t know if it pleases me enough to actually keep me at the keys, but there is a sense of power and entertainment sitting up here. It makes me think of Night Vale and the sheriff’s floating office. The little shelf that is now occupied by Little Miss No Name, Oscar, Springtrap and Spike, all of whom stare expectantly at the downstairs, also pleases me.

The only downside at this point is there’s no coffee or bathroom facilities up here. Dragging my gimpy butt downstairs to refill my mug or attend to the needs of the body and then lurching back up them isn’t an easy endeavor. I think I’m going to try to convince the lady of the house that I need a Keurig up here. Solves half the problem, at least… and I can always refill the water in the Keurig whenever I am forced downstairs for bathroom usage.

There’s more to put up here; I want to tuck my ancient typewriter and my Day 1 PS3 in the corner on a display shelf, and place copies of my own work on that shelf as well. Need a new USB hub to hook everything up. Going to drape a greenscreen on the back wall, so I can be one of those fancy streamers. But for the most part, I’m done, and I can survey the rest of the house like a kingdom, drunk on my own power.

I kinda like it.