(With apologies to Virginia Woolf for pinching her title. I’ve recently started reading that book actually, but stalled as it needs concentration which I don’t have much of at the end of the day.)
After 4 years of working from home I finally acquired a room of my own earlier this year. It still has to function as a spare bedroom for guests but thanks to a friend’s suggestions (her spatial awareness and interior design sense are much better than mine!) we have also found room – just – for a good-sized desk and a shelving unit which not only houses all my work files but my fabric stash, knitting yarn stash and some of my book collection. The monitor is wall-mounted on an adjustable arm so I can push it back when I’m not using it, and the keyboard is wireless, all of which means it’s really easy to swap computer for sewing machine or other playthings.
I could work anywhere. I’ve been known to bring the laptop down to the settee when a poorly boy is home from school, or to the kitchen table, and I used to do all my sewing at the kitchen table too, but I’d much rather be in my ‘nest’ upstairs, surrounded by all my things. It’s a work room but it’s also a play room and it’s all mine. Somehow it makes it easier to think, and to create.