Although you think it would (as I stuff another cookie into my mouth).
I've sat in front of my computer every single day this week unable to write anything here. The cursor blinks steadily and the screen remains a blank canvas.
I keep telling myself I can't write because I have too much going on right now and my concentration levels are at an all time low, but is that really the reason?
My office was once my sanctuary. A bright place where I'd go and delight in the fact that I could just close the door and the cacophony of every day life could be shut out, even for a few moments.
My Shawshank Redemption.
I had my routine: enter office, Prince and Tank followed, they'd argue about who would sit at my feet (Tank always won), turn computer on, work, put feet on Tank, tell Prince it was okay while he inched closer and closer to my feet, even though I know Tank was telling him to move back a little bit.
We made a great team. Sometimes, there was a little too much dog slobber than I'd like, but nothing too bad.
Now I look at my office and it looks like a cave. Not a cool and mysterious Bat Cave, but a dark and lonely cave that just sucks the life out of anyone or anything that goes into it, a vortex into madness that you can't escape.
Since Tank passed away a few months ago, I have not been able to sit in my office for very long. Prince follows me in cautiously and lays down where he used to when Tank was around, but then he gets weirded out and runs into the living room where there is life.
I sit in front of my computer, staring listlessly at the screen. I have shit to do, but can't seem to get it done. I keep thinking I feel Tank brush up against my leg. His cold, wet nose touches my toes. His snoring vibrates in my ear. I look under my desk, but there's nothing there.
I can feel the tears drip down my chin. I look out to the living room and Prince is staring at me, like 'Get out of their, Mama. It's too sad in there.'
So I leave and close the door behind me, leaving memories of Tank to expand and swirl on their own, but what I should probably do is just leave the door open so those memories can breathe.
Anyway, using Carl's computer in the kitchen is working just fine for me.