It’s the end …

Sooner or later everything comes to an end and although the last few years have been the most productive of my career, it’s time to move on.

Mixed Up was the last script I’m ever going to write … in this room:

Office 

Of course I’m not giving up; but with baby on the way, this room is set to become the nursery. It’s served me well for the last couple of years, but it’s time to move aside for more important things.

Or people.

One person to be exact.

I’ve had the desk and the chair since I was fifteen, they too are to be scrapped. There’s just no room for them in the brave new world. The desk never fully recovered from someone trying to ride it down a cobbled hill in Swansea anyway; and although it rarely wobbles, it does occasionally fall off its own legs and plunge everything onto the floor.

The chair, despite its utilitarian appearance, is very, very comfortable. I’ve never suffered from any form of back ache despite sitting in it for days on end. It’s ragged and it’s squeaky, but it does the job. Perhaps I might grant the chair a temporary reprieve, but the desk is definitely destined for the scrapheap.

Soon the shelves will be stripped, the board will come down and the office light will be turned off for the last time. The next time the light comes on, it’ll be the nursery light and there’ll be a cot where the desk once stood.

And occasionally fell over.

I’d just like to point out, the decor was not my choice and was there when I moved in. It’s fairly inoffensive and never seemed worth the effort to change. Hopefully, the nursery will be much more suitable for a baby girl.

Or at least that’s the plan.

I am going to miss this room, it’s exclusively my space and it’s served me well. Change is always a mixture of excitement and regret. I like to move forward, but a rut is ever so comfortable. Still, it’s for the greater good and I can’t wait for the day I can lie in bed, look across the hall at my baby daughter, turn to Mandy and say … doesn’t she ever fucking sleep?

The odd thing is, for a while at least, the baby’s room will have considerably less toys than the office does now.

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Categories: Progress, Random Witterings, Sad Bastard | 5 Comments

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5 thoughts on “It’s the end …

  1. Wooooo! Congratulations on babying!

    Good amount of geeky stuff in the office, too. Like it.

    … but more importantly, congratulations again.

  2. Cheers, Oli.

    The sad truth is this is the cut down version of geekery. In my last house I had 17 shelves full of Star Wars shit. When we bought this place I packed the vast majority of it away – partly because of space, but mostly because each succesive shit film shifted Star Wars from something I loved to something I thought 50% of is a steaming pile of incredible awfulness.

    I got fed up having to defend and quantify my fandom:

    “Yeah, I like Star Wars, but only the first three films … but not the first three, you know, the FIRST three. The good ones. 4, 5 and 6. From the 70s and 80s.”

    It’s too difficult to explain. Plus, not having so much stuff deters people from giving me any old tat with a Star Wars logo on as a present.

    “Phill likes Star Wars, he’ll love this Darth Vader tampon holder.”

    No, no he won’t.

  3. Where are you going to work now then?

    Funnily enough, I’m just about to move house and turn the third bedroom into a writing space that will probably look very similar to the one above. Can’t wait as I’ve been balancing the laptop on my knee for six months.

    (Very jealous of your Dapol Tardis playset by the way…)

  4. Ah Dapol, currently residing in the ‘what the fuck were they thinking?’ file.

    A flat roofed Tardis, a five sided console, a green K9 and the inclusion of the Doctor’s most feared and famous enemy – the Tetrap.

    And all this as a warm up before scaling the dizzy heights of a two handed Davros and a scarfless Tom Baker.

    Fucking muppets.

    Where am I going to write? Now there’s a tale …

  5. Pingback: Next! « The Jobbing Scriptwriter

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