I am a soon to be English Literature and Film and Television Studies graduate living with my mother, her husband and my younger sister. After 4 years of studying and working I find myself in the awkward period between graduating and the rest of my life and with it comes a lot of free time which I planned to use constructively.
Unfortunately for me, winter vacation coincides with my would-be writing spree. This of course means that my mom – who is a teacher – is at home too. And so is my sister.
To add to that, while I have my own personal space, my bedroom is not ideal for writing. Instead of a desk I have an ancient bedroom suite – my mother will not allow me to get rid of it due to sentimental value – with a dressing table that is way too low for me to use as a desk.
So due to the undesirable nature of my bedroom furniture I have settled with using the dining room as a make-shift study. The problem is as soon as I settle in and get comfortable good ol’ Murphy’s Law is waiting around the corner to slap me in the face.
It is as though the notion of silence is not understood in my household, nor privacy. I am continuously bombarded with questions.
“What are you doing?”
“Do you have any cigarettes?”
“Where is the lighter?”
“Omg, I’m so bored!”
“Make me coffee?”
My creative process requires minimal distractions and interruptions. It requires being left alone. But my family members just don’t understand that.
It has become so bad that I regularly find myself day-dreaming about the perfect creative environment; a place that has comfortable furniture, awesome Wifi, walls covered in bookshelves filled with speculative fiction and the sweet hum of silence accompanied by quiet cello music.
Instead I have to make do with a desk that encourages back aches, a Wifi connection that disconnects every two minutes and a cat who is trying to figure out how to get inside my computer.
Welcome to my world!