Leaving The Hobbit Hole

Arrggh! That passive-aggressive we so lovingly call the Sun has wormed its way through my blinds. I covered my head with a pillow, but that didn’t work. The damage is done. I am awake and that ultimately means leaving my snug little RV home that I affectionately call Wanda and the rest of the family calls The Hobbit Hole.

Today’s Monday and I must go forth and tilt at windmills for money. It’s not as if I ever make any real progress at my place of employment. I’m sure I’m related to King Sisyphus way back – you know that guy who the Gods condemned to rolling a boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down, over and over and over again, ad infinitum.

On top of that, I haven’t been outside for almost 48 hours – unless you count taking the two overflowing Trader Joe’s grocery bags filled with garbage out to the community trash bin.  A total of 46 seconds were involved. I’m pretty sure no actual sunlight hit my pale, over-nourished body.

Let me explain. I am a writer. That pretty much sums it up. Were I a successful writer at this point, I may not require a hobbit hole. I’d probably be on a beach somewhere, exactly like the commercials represent us creative but entrepreneurial types. Anyway…

So, I live in a 23-foot RV that remains darkened; partly because there aren’t enough windows to truly light it up naturally like in a regular house, partly because I don’t like prying eyes when I’m heavily into writing and partly because there is a bit of the hermit in me – at least for short stints.

Leaving the HH also requires a great deal of effort – showering, shoes, clothes, feeding , etc. – so I will avoid this process at all cost on the weekends and holidays unless the pay-off is huge. Thanksgiving – great food – or maybe a movie that literally everyone agrees is fantastic (I can’t risk the time away from the HH if there’s any chance it will be a flop).

However, as I said, today is a work day and I have no choice. I must shower and shave, ingest some food and coffee, cover myself and lock up. I will face my burden with a heavy but brave heart, leaving HH behind until I can return this evening to take up residence once again, happily esconced in the little writing nook I’ve created for myself, listening absently to NPR and pounding away on the keyboard. It is my life and I wouldn’t have it any other way…unless, of course, the beach becomes an option. Then we’ll talk.

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6 thoughts on “Leaving The Hobbit Hole”

  1. I like both the Bloody Mary and martini ideas, but I’m firmly a margarita gal. That does mean I would have to leave HH long enough to get supplies, OR transfer my allegiance to a local bar. Honestly… I haven’t been able to find one dark enough to hide the pallor.

  2. Congrats on getting out of your hobbit hole! I can relate to the writing life of solitude and lack of sun. I like the bloody mary suggestion above, but for me it would be a martini.

  3. My dream is also a beach house, Kathy. One day, this writing thing will deliver. You will see! I do believe, but I believe in Santa and the Easter Bunny too.

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