My 3rd Economist magazine arrived in the mail today, like clockwork. I’ve started a subscription as part of my preparation to jump back into the academic grind this year.
After work, I went home and folded towels, fed the fishes, watered the aloe and the other pitiful looking indoor plant that’s halfway in its journey to plant nirvana (poor thing, to be saddled with a caretaker as me). I also cleared the dishes from this morning’s breakfast, pushed the bin next to the alley for tomorrow’s trash collectors and got the mail–which consisted of another enticement from YouFit, the local newsletter, mail for in-laws and mail for hubby’s uncle.
I saw an episode of American Dad and 30 Rock–both of which I am marathoning this month. If I allowed myself, I’d be watching a whole season of these shows in one day. I am serious. So far, I’ve already breezed through 6 seasons. But lately I’ve been good with minimizing my binge to 1 or two episodes per show per day because then I’d run out of my American Dad fix and then where would I be?
I mentioned yesterday that we are in the process of converting the piano room into a home office. Brice being the engineer in this marriage, insisted on having a definite plan on what I want in the study, and how I want things to look like. I knew since day one that I want a day bed in it. I also knew that I’d like my desk to face the corner, away from the window and the door leading to the front door so that nothing distracts me from whatever studying I’m doing. It’s also the least frequented room in the house because we tend to stay in the family room where the two huge TVs are. Entire days and weeks go by without either husband or wife setting foot in the piano room. There could be a homeless guy living in there for all we know.
However, a further survey into that space revealed that having a day bed and a wall made entirely of shelves will reduce the room into a tiny, cramped space. So I opted for a window seat instead. I looked through hundreds of different pictures online for ideas and inspiration. I tried this approach with Brice:
Me: I’d like for it to be really bright, I don’t like the green curtains that we have there now. I don’t like the 70s wallpaper either so we’ll have to get rid of that and paint the walls a bright color. I’d really like a window seat and book shelves (for my orphan books that are strewn across the bedroom closet and the table in the kitchen). And I’d like a desk in the very back of the room.
Brice: No. You have to draw it out so I know what we’re dealing with. You know I never start anything until we have an actual plan.
That was that. He took measurements and I had to somehow put my vision to paper. He swore we wouldn’t even peel so much as one inch of a wallpaper until we know exactly what we’re doing. Nothing goes until we have an exact, detailed blueprint. Even though I get impatient at his maddeningly thorough ways, I do appreciate this quality of his because as experience has taught me, it works. It’s slow and boring but it saves time in the end. My wing-it ways have absolutely no place in my husband’s logical, organized world.
I’m sharing my childish drawings on here for posterity’s sake. I actually quite enjoyed the process.