except Ming. This is an old photo, taken when I was still using my old laptop, and my study. (You can even see some of my Buddhas.) Ming is stretched out on the keyboard because it is warm, and if there is one thing she likes best, it is heat.
When I became ill, I couldn't lift my laptop, so Marius bought me a new one that weighs about 700 g, which I can lift. I also couldn't negotiate the stairs very well, and once I was up and brushed as it were, I would come downstairs for the day, making climbing the stairs back up to my study almost impossible. Instead, I would use the dining table as a desk (and the sofa as a day bed) and gradually one of the side chairs accumulated lots of my study junk - papers and pencil cases and files and filled notebooks - so that now the dining area is permanently messy, and if we want to use the table, it requires twenty minutes of tidying up first.
I am far from well but much better than I have been, and I am able to climb the stairs relatively easily. I don't run up and down like I used to, but most days I will go up and down half a dozen times. Yet I am still stuck at the dining table (which isn't as comfortable or convenient) and I find myself very reluctant to move back upstairs.
It has occured to me that I might be suffering from some sort of performance anxiety - it was in the study that I wrote most of my brilliant novel, the one I am now struggling to face editing - and fear of finding out that the novel is in fact rubbish, or unmanageable, and that I can't write worth a bean, might be what is keeping me downstairs, away from serious work.
So it sits, unused.
The books unconsulted.