A Room of One's Own.

On July 1st, I got the keys to my new office. In six weeks, it had gone from this...

...to this:

I thought we'd check out what it looks like today!

The furniture is a mis-matched mixture of stuff I brought over from our house and things from Ronnie's last office and his old apartment - all I bought new was the cheapest desk they had at IKEA. I still haven't gotten around to hang the mirror, the giant picture of Manhattan and all of my posters up on the walls, and you can't exactly accuse it of being too cozy, but I love it. Every time I sit down at that desk, I get things done. Without anxiety, without pressure, without sweaty palms or a racing heart.

The rent is too expensive, considering what I earn at the moment, but I've chosen to deal with that. It's an investment in myself: in my future career as well as in my mental and physical health. It's a reason to leave the house, and it gives me a much needed taste of what my life can - and will - be like the day that I'm strong enough to have normal work days, a pace more suited to the rest of the world. It makes me hope and strive for a time when I won't lay awake all night gasping for air, when headaches will be the exception instead of the norm, when I won't be paralyzed by grief, depression and despair. When I won't constantly be so tired that it feels like I'm sleepwalking through life. A time when I'll be well.

I can't wait to get there.