In a perfect world, I wouldn't write in the family room.
I'd build an unreachable attic, and the trap door would open over a swimming pool.
Or I'd have a secret cottage in the woods.
A fence would be a nice touch.
It doesn't have to be fancy.
But these days, even a simple place is crazy-expensive.
All I really need is music, a laptop, and a furry companion named Mister.
As for the room, I'll invent one.
It will have flowers,
and a view.
Lots of books, too.
Once I'm settled in this imaginary place, I can keep building.