Today, we introduce another new series - Writer Spaces. On Tuesday, we explored "A Day in the Life of JoJo Tabares" and today, we get a glimpse of JoJo's writing space.
When I was a young girl, I could write ANYWHERE! Just give me a purple notebook. I’d write sitting on the floor, on my bed, upside-down. I even wrote stories in my dreams. As a homeschooling mom, I wrote my Art of Eloquence speech communication curricula on my desk top computer following the notes I had handwritten in my purple notebook. It wasn’t the most comfortable place for a writer who stands 5’ nothing. I haven’t met a chair yet upon which I didn’t have “dangling feeticiples.” I often sat on my legs because it was a smidge easier for my arms to reach the keyboard.
As I got older and collected several more diagnoses, sitting in one position for too long resulted in neck pain that radiated up to my head the likes of which couldn’t be calmed by an ibuprofen tablet the size of Milwaukee. Fibro eventually took my ability to contort my body with any regularity and my writing couch was born.
One purple laptop later, and I was comfortably seated with my feet up, a purple blanket
at the ready in case of a chill and an elegant Chinese fan lying in wait for the inevitable hot flashes. Everything a chronic illness blogger needs for her day is within reach.
On the table beside me is my purple thermos of ice water and four TV remote controls for background noise—unless I push one button too many and end up listening to static and watching screen snow. In that case, I turn on my YouTube favorites and wait for my husband or son to rescue me from my technological faux pas. I’m perched in the perfect location to view anyone coming to my front door requiring my attention and I’m within earshot of an over boiling pot of spaghetti for those inevitable brain fog moments when I forget I’m cooking.
One of the writing couch’s adaptations was achieved entirely by accident. My husband had taken off the legs the last time we moved in order to more adequately use space in the moving truck. Several months after setting up house this time around, it suddenly dawned on me that my feet actually touched the floor! We were able to find the legs tucked away in a box in the basement, but by this time, I had become accustomed to not feeling like a toddler, and my husband had become accustomed to not having to assemble anything else.
After each of my five recent surgeries, it was my writing couch by day and my bed by night. My writing couch remains my favorite writing environment catering to my specific chronic needs even as they are ever changing. From my writing couch, I cannot only write with relative ease, but I can put aside my laptop and rest whenever naptime strikes. (Okay, I guess I still am somewhat of a toddler.)
JoJo Tabares is a Christian chronic illness blogger at www.LifeBeyondSurviving.com and runs a Facebook group by the same name. She’s been diagnosed with several chronic illnesses/conditions, but she sees the humor and joy in just about everything and shares how others can find the light God has INSIDE the chronic tunnel.
JoJo’s Writing Couch
by JoJo Tabares
As I got older and collected several more diagnoses, sitting in one position for too long resulted in neck pain that radiated up to my head the likes of which couldn’t be calmed by an ibuprofen tablet the size of Milwaukee. Fibro eventually took my ability to contort my body with any regularity and my writing couch was born.
One purple laptop later, and I was comfortably seated with my feet up, a purple blanket at the ready in case of a chill and an elegant Chinese fan lying in wait for the inevitable hot flashes. Everything a chronic illness blogger needs for her day is within reach.
On the table beside me is my purple thermos of ice water and four TV remote controls for background noise—unless I push one button too many and end up listening to static and watching screen snow. In that case, I turn on my YouTube favorites and wait for my husband or son to rescue me from my technological faux pas. I’m perched in the perfect location to view anyone coming to my front door requiring my attention and I’m within earshot of an over boiling pot of spaghetti for those inevitable brain fog moments when I forget I’m cooking.
One of the writing couch’s adaptations was achieved entirely by accident. My husband had taken off the legs the last time we moved in order to more adequately use space in the moving truck. Several months after setting up house this time around, it suddenly dawned on me that my feet actually touched the floor! We were able to find the legs tucked away in a box in the basement, but by this time, I had become accustomed to not feeling like a toddler, and my husband had become accustomed to not having to assemble anything else.
After each of my five recent surgeries, it was my writing couch by day and my bed by night. My writing couch remains my favorite writing environment catering to my specific chronic needs even as they are ever changing. From my writing couch, I cannot only write with relative ease, but I can put aside my laptop and rest whenever naptime strikes. (Okay, I guess I still am somewhat of a toddler.)
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