How I am afraid in the bedroom.

Disclaimer: This post is not what you think it’s about. At least, not what at least 80% of you think it’s about. I keep saying…I don’t write that blog. Yet. (But if The Bloggess asked me to author a guest post on her sex advice column, I would so go there.)

No, this is about something else.

First, backstory. (I’m really big on backstory. I could be an investigative journalist. I could be Katie Couric. I could be perky.) Five months ago I quit my director job to take a part-time job so I could start my own business. Foolishly (or, if I’m feeling particularly irritated, “stupidly”) I thought it would take me two or three months to get my business together. And here it is, five months later, and I’m still working on infrastructure. The biggest issue is that each thing I need to learn how to do includes several hours of research. For instance: “S Corporation?”  eight hours of research. “VoIP Plans?” five hours of research. “Website development?”  nine thousand hours of research.

This is what led to the idea of the Martha Points Scale, as working 20 hours a week on the business, working 25 hours a week at the part-time job, and still putting food on my family turned me into a somewhat more exhausted mess than being the director did (although I do sleep better these days.) The thing that got deprioritized more than anything else was taking care of the house. Despite my deep-seated need to have my home in a state of order. A state of calm. Despite my desire to have the kids well fed and not eating the box the cereal came in. Despite my typical standard of not having cobwebs as a design feature. Despite all that, things…well….got away from me. But only in the same way a bullet train with an over-caffeinated engineer would.

So now, here’s the thing…

This.

<i>What is with the cats?</i> They were nowhere near the desk before the camera was in my hands!

What is with the cats? They were nowhere near me before I had the camera.

This lives in my bedroom.

I believe the fire department has psychics to root out people like me.

This is my office.

My office includes a computer, a printer, a new router, an old router, a VoIP adapter, a home phone, an office phone, an external microphone, a headset, a mixing board, a lamp and an electric pencil sharpener. I would just die without that pencil sharpener.

On Monday night, we got the new router hooked up, because part of my business involves videoconferencing and I needed more reliable bandwidth. This is why it looks this way: it took me, Himself, the cats, a winch, a jackhammer and a giant head from Easter Island  to get the router installed.  And apparently two power strips are not enough to cope with all the plugs. I don’t know where to find LARGER power strips than the ones we have. I believe now we need to build a substation under the desk.

But this is starting to scare me.  I’m really worried that mid-videoconference, a cable is going to snake around my ankle and yank me under the desk, a la the opening scene in “Jaws.”

BUT…

I am not going to levy a Martha Point penalty just yet. I think a disaster of this magnitude warrants a modest buffer to cope with because 1) I had a really good reason for creating said disaster, and 2) I will need to crawl behind the bed, under the bed, under the desk, through the walls, and potentially down the rabbit hole in order to fix it.

So this is my pledge: I will have my home office re-organized in a way that would do Martha proud by the end of the weekend. IF I get it done on time, and there is a photo of my shiny office space sans snarly cable mess by Monday morning, I get +10 points. If I do NOT get this London-tube-map-on-steroids sorted by then, I will take a -20 point penalty. Given that my current score is 1 point, this is potentially a big, didn’t-shave-your-legs-hairy-deal.

So it’s on. Oh yes, it’s on.

18 comments

  1. UGH. cords are my biggest pet peeve and I am married to someone who works from home behind a NASA-like setup with 4…yes FOUR computer screens attached to his 2…yes TWO computer towers, plus fax, 3 phone lines, printer, scanner, and of course pencil sharpener.

    I could strangle myself or someone else in all those wires…hmmmmmmm.

  2. Come on over and look under OUR desk and take a look at OUR office. You will sleep peacefully ever after and never think again that you didn’t get your priorities straight…
    BUT we can share a bottle of wine!

  3. Evidently, your office also includes a cat, which I think adds to the charming eclectic nature of the entire scene. When you do the makeover, remember to leave a spot for the cat. Perhaps just add a color-coordinated bow so she fits with the scheme. (You like how I assume she’s a “she,” don’t you? But honestly, what kind of self-respecting male cat would position itself so strategically in order to offer running commentary on your ridiculously witty blog?)

    1. LOL. The cat ON the desk is the girl cat. You can tell by her elegant positioning of herself in the best lighting. The cat UNDER the desk is the bully male cat.

      The cats will get their own post soon. I talk about them too much to not explain them. Or, try to explain them. Or, rationalize them.

  4. P.S. I would SO go there with the Bloggess’ sex column too. I want to be that girl when I grow up. Thanks for listing her in your “places I like to visit.” It’s hard to remember the last time I projected Diet Coke through my nasal cavities.

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