When I started the post Writing for my life the other day, about not being sure if I should call myself a writer, I intended to share some nice information about steps I have taken to support my sense of being a writer.
I bought a desk — a nice one, for not too much money — and my friend Fred and I will pick it up and assemble it next week. I cannot even say how nice it will be to sit at a desk to write. In celebration, I ordered a Zen garden to keep on it. I have always wanted one. I’m taking a giant step here — this is the first big item, (more than $5.00,) that I have bought specifically because I am a writer.
This afternoon, my dear and generous friend D. took me to Staples, and bought me an office chair — a beautiful big comfortable chair, black and puffy, with great lumbar support.
The chair is my birthday present, and it is terribly extravagant and wonderful. She wants to sure I’m comfortable when I write, as blogging and writing are so important to me. I am so looking forward to my new desk, and my supportive, comfy chair, and my Zen garden with the Laughing Buddha and the incense burner. Tonight, I feel like a writer, and I wouldn’t be cautious about telling anyone at all!
P.S. My friend D. has a new car, and she named it Zippy. She suggested that I come up with a good name for my chair. I considered Millenium Falcon, and Black Star from Babylon 5, but neither of them felt right. D. asked if I had considered any regular names, and gave me some examples. One of them was perfect: my big, beautiful black leather chair is officially named Spot.