1. It feels like a breath of awesome every time I walk in there, namely cos I know what I’m there for. To write. And cartoon. And occasionally procrastinate. But not often. (I don’t have enough time to).
2. I can decorate it with the security of knowing that no Rice Bubbles will coat the walls anytime soon. Unless of course, I want them to.
3. I can see the Story Bridge from my window. It’s an especially ripper view if I stand on my tiptoes and squint a bit.
4. I can somehow better appreciate the kids and the supreme sweetness they bring into my world, when I have a bit of distance from which to view it. Bit like the Story Bridge in that regard, really.
5. I can plaster it with stuff that makes me chuckle, like this. Frankie and I had our picture drawn in NYC and for the remainder of the trip, the resulting specimen cracked us right up. Namely cos a) it looks nothing like us; b) it looks nothing like us; and c) it looks nothing like us. Needless to say, I LOVE IT.
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