On Productivity

"Now I have a headache." I said, flopping on my loveseat. "Building a fort is hard."

The box from the mini trampoline on which I bounce (for stress relief - it's...odd, I know.) has been in my living room for several days now.

"It's going out in a blaze of glory."

"In your fireplace?" Friend asked. Neither of us went to work today, which was likely not wise. But stay home I did, taking a nap and halfheartedly working and craving chips and salsa. After returning from satisfying said craving, I decided to pick up my box.

"No." I said, looking at the fireplace that's never been used. It now holds candles. "I shall build a fort."

There are two entrances to my fort. You can slide down from the ottoman in front of the chair (which I did) or you can enter the door (which Sprout and Chienne tend to do). The former is a bit more challenging.

You'll notice the fort is reinforced with couch cushions, roofed with a king-sized sheet (which, yes, sags a bit. I'm out of practice with fort building) and is decorated with flowers. Oh, and guarded by a stuffed dog. Chienne embraced the fort in the beginning, pleased that I was on the floor to cuddle. Then I got a bit warm in the fort - the air doesn't move so freely in there - so we came out. She quickly became bored with whole idea.

Sprout initially ran away, but returned to play with the odd structure I built. I had my finger coming out the hole at one point, though I couldn't tell I was being stalked. (Oh, yes, I'm in the fort.)

As time went on, Sprout removed more and more of the flowers from their holes. But though the fort is swaying a bit in the breeze, it still stands.

But if I'm ever to have children, I really should start building better forts. The ones in my childhood seemed a lot cooler somehow.

(I'll really try to go to work tomorrow. Promise.)

ETA: The kids who live behind me lost a ball in my yard. I was bouncing with my headphones on so Friend was left to answer the door.

"I almost made you do it." She said when I returned from my bedroom. I cocked my head at her, wondering if small children frightened her and she sighed at me.

"You have a fort. In your living room. Decorated with flowers."

"Oh." I said, starting to smile.

"I decided to just crack the door open and hope they couldn't see it."

So I giggled. It's like she's embarrassed by the fort or something. (Though she did just remind me that it was her idea to use a sheet for the roof. So it's not as if she's totally anti-fort.)

I later looked at the fort, all happy in the corner, and noted that I really have to go to work today.

"Why?" She asked.

"Because I built a fort in my living room. And decorated it with flowers. Posted it on my blog."

And she agreed.

So the fort is no more, though Sprout did seem to enjoy it most of all. I took it apart, threw the box away and all that's left is the sheet that needs to be folded. I have walked the dog and am about to go dress for the office. But I was charmed by your enthusiasm over the fort. Thank you.