Reason #34 Why writing takes so long
#34 Desk Dragons
There are a number of work-related hazards a writer faces. Repetitive motion issues, back issues, eye strain, you get the idea. In our modern era, we are fortunate that there exist interventions for each of these.
I have a fancy ergonomic keyboard that keeps my hands functioning well on those high word-count days. I found an awesome desk riser at Good Will recently that lets me convert my work station to a standing desk when my back has had enough. That and some super comfy cushions have made being at the desk, whether that is BIC HOK (butt in chair, hands on keyboard) or SAD HOK (, standing at desk, hands on keyboard), a far more comfortable and productive experience. And there’s the new computer glasses, which have been delayed first, by human error, then by vagaries of the weather, that will eventually mean I don’t have to sit as far from the desk as the office will allow to see what I’m doing.
There is one hazard though, that modern science has not found a solution for. Desk Dragons.
Yes, I have a problem of desk dragons.
Not all the time, mind you. But periodically, the desk dragons swoop down and decide to invade my desk and take over any unoccupied space at their own.
Honestly, since I’ve got a full staff of desk cats who invade the space in a shift rotation, I don’t mind the dragons so much, at least not as a concept. Problem is that the cats purr, wants scritchies, then curl up and have a nap.
The dragons do not.
The desk dragon watches for any sign of prey and pounces upon it. Thing is, he doesn’t seem able to differentiate between prey and my fingers on the keyboard. Nor has he realized that COMPUTER mice are not tasty and chewing on their tails does not improve their flavor. We are still in negotiations on these issues.
I’ve tried to suggest that the dragon might deign to use the cat bed that resides on the desk. But he’s not having it. That would be insulting, giving him the same status as a companion animal. The dragon in question has decided that if he is to have a pillow and nap, it must be one of mine. So, he waits until I leave my seat and stealthily occupies my new (expensive) seat cushion for his very own.
Being a very well trained author, instead of evicting the desk dragon, I figure it’s a good time to revert to my standing desk.
At least he’s not longer confusing my fingers with prey—right?
I had a desk dragon for years, thing is I was making miniatures and they are extremely difficult to get out of their fur. But don’t they make us laugh? And oh so very happy!
I can relate to comfortable seating. I have a balance ball chair. Fortunately, no desk dragons!
I must have one of the invisible desk dragons. It has special powers and will take over my cordless mouse. My cursor will suddenly move of its own volition leaving unusual sentences in its wake. Not to be undone, it will highlight, and then delete what I had just written. Yeah, he/she is a menace. Love this segment of posts. Keep us informed of future interferences to writing. LOL!
My husband’s allergic so we don’t suffer from desk dragons. Smiling.
This is an astute piece of writing that could have come from my own heart, as they say. I have a lapdesk dragon who would rather preside ( hold court) on my chest and across my right shoulder than lie beside me pleasantly and appropriately, like any good cat should. I cannot express adequately how handicapping this is to the serious writer, or the writer who takes her writing far too seriously. My lapdesk dragon makes things slightly destructive to my sanity or expressly invigorating to my sleepless brain, depending upon whether said dragon is in the mood merely to paw (dare I use that word?) my keyboard or pounce on the delete key, a dainty feat that never fails to amaze me. He has learned he can create havoc with the mere flick of a claw, and entire passages I have slaved over for hours fly off the screen, becoming sad victims of his magical powers. I swear by all the saints he giggles when he does this.
It’s hopeless and my writing is doomed. Alas, alack-a-day!
Debbie