In the Closet

Today I am writing in the closet. Yes, the closet. Despite the clothes, storage bins, and suitcases surrounding me, it is actually quite cozy. When I was a teen and finally had my own room I still enjoyed some extra privacy. I would crawl into the space between the wall and my bed. I would write in my diary or read a book and sometimes curl up with a blanket. My mom even came in and turned off the light on me one time. She may have been pretending I wasn’t there, but I thought it was awesome that I could hide from the world at the time.

Right now I’m not attempting to escape from the world, though I am enjoying this space. I was driven into this closet by smoke. Cigarette smoke. This is a non-smoking building, but cigarette smoke is permeating my living room. The kitchen was my haven earlier when I was cooking, but now it’s time to relax a little. I was going to move my workstation to the bedroom which seems to be smoke free, but Sean needs to sleep. I decided to hang out in the closet with the door closed as not to disturb him and still have smoke-free air.

I don’t want to make any excuses for not writing so here I am. A change of scenery can be good. I was thinking more along the lines of taking my workstation to a café. The closet will do for today. I wonder where tomorrow will take me.