Being home most days can be a funny thing.
I revel in the feeling of waking up, slowly (very, very slowly), and knowing that my office – er, studio – is across the hall. There’s no rush out the door and no need for a cohesive outfit. Some days my hair never sees a brush, and most days, my uniform is a slubby tee and jeans.
With the studio overhaul nearing completion (how many times have I said that?), most of you know that the majority of my time is spent working from home, out of the space we’ve created. But one to two days a week, I work with my good friend in the photo studio she runs in the West Loop. These are the days I hop on a bus, a train, and another bus – then walk another 6 blocks! – and I’m confronted with girls in their dresses and men in their business suits. I think, oh! so this is the style nowadays, or, is that how the girls wear their hair now? I feel oddly out of it, as most days I barely step outside – aside from various spray paint projects and my morning walks with Jack. Sometimes I miss the rush of working in a bustling office; I do.
But that’s why it’s funny. I love being home, in the studio, painting the days away (whether it’s pets or chalkboard walls). I love the evenings with Scott, making dinner, watching one of ten various singing competitions, or catching up with friends. I love that when we go to bed at night, I know I’ll wake up to our comfortable home and work in my comfortable, inspiring studio. I feel incredibly fortunate, lucky and blessed. You get it, I get it, but sometimes it feels eerie and quiet when you’re only daytime companions are of the four-legged variety.
To counteract that funny feeling and feel some semblance of balance, I routinely get out of bed before the eight o’clock hour (and on a good day, seven). I proceed to do the things we all do: check email, drink coffee and move at a glacial pace until the caffeine kicks in.
I find myself talking in that syrupy baby voice and having full-on conversations with Jack and the (feline) girls. Along with my daily Today show viewing, it makes me feel more awake and productive; it seems like there’s more going on around me. I reward Jack throughout the afternoon with peanut butter, for no good reason other than keeping me company. (I find so much amusement in his wacky lip-smacking and flappy ears.)
And while I may be sporting my oldest – but let’s be real, my most comfortable – tee in the closet, I’ve also been wearing the most vibrant red-orange lipstick to go to work in our home studio. My BFF, Jill, got me hooked on the color (Nars Heatwave) when she visited for her 30th birthday, and it somehow makes my days feel more important. More official.
No, nothing I’ve said is terribly noteworthy, but these are just some thoughts lately. I’m realizing there’s not much of a conclusion either. (But since when do random thoughts have concise endings anyway?) I would, however, like to add that a bit of dress-up with my red lips could be nice. You know, to counteract the overall funny feeling I sometimes get.
Do you know this feeling, too? Or, hey, what’s on your mind? Give us random; we can handle random. (Scott puts up with my random all the time.)