Over the last few months my Instagram, twitter and reader has been peppered with pics of where the magic happens.
Where the words flow from the fingers of my fellow bloganistas.
Perfectly styled corners filled with inspirational quotes, mason jars full of fresh cut flowers and jam jars of home made lemonade with stripey straws.
Fucking ROOMS dedicated to their art. With co-ordinating decor and perfect children that don’t trash it the second your arse hits the toilet seat.
Since The Damn Emos flew the coop, we DO have a couple of spare rooms that I could potentially turn into a bloggy office, but I don’t take this shit seriously enough for all that, and to be brutally frank, this blog is only ever updated while I am watching TV.
Those Housewives of all the Places are not going to watch themselves.
(or The Rachel Zoe Project. OMG. I die.)
Hence where I blog.
Left hand corner is one of Boo’s computers, along with the resident evil that is Tele-fucking-Tubbies.
See that corner over there? With the funky green pillow? Between the awesomeness that is the idevices?
That is where I sit, sans pants as the opportunity strikes,
watching trashy reality tv and let the words flow, hiccup and spew forth.
All for your entertainment.
I swear, when I earn more than a dollar forty seven from this blogging caper, I am gunna claim couch cushions as a tax deduction. And maybe get those timber blinds fixed.
Have you done a post/instagram/cave painting of where you blog? Lemme see.