Yesterday, before 8:00 a.m., I closed all 800 open tabs in my internet browser, shut down the ol’ desktop for the first time in months and set it on the floor, and then said a little pseudo-prayer before heaving my hunk of a desk up onto my thighs and wiggle-walking my way through one narrow doorway, down the hallway, through another narrow doorway, and then collapsing into my sunroom.

Justin was super thrilled.

But, like, I can’t not have light in my life, you know? And despite the fact that its walls are still the same affronting canary yellow they were when we moved in, my office was feeling very dark. And kind of claustrophobic. And I’m fairly positive that’s the reason I’ve failed at novel-writing thus far. It’s probably also why my face is breaking out and feel an inherent need to sleep for like nine hours a night.

Or maybe that’s just winter.

The point is that my desk feels very good out here.

You can see I’ve been busily working away at Facebook.

I get tons of natural sunlight, it’s just steps from the all-important Room of Snacks (aka. the kitchen), and the view looks out over my bird-filled backyard. Sometimes the squirrels peek through the skylights just to see what I’m doing, which is practically the same as having co-workers. The only downside thus far is that the mutts are confused as to why we’re not holed up in our usual cave, and I’m confused as to why the new blinds I ordered for this room from JC Penney back in November still haven’t arrived. But I’ve finally learned that becoming comfortable with confusion is a part of aging gracefully.

I tried explaining that to the dogs, but they just look at me like I’m a lunatic.

Sometimes, I think, they might be right.

It’s probably a direct result of working from home, which means that the majority of my daily interactions are of the human-to-canine variety.

The dogs also don’t understand why moving my desk to the sunroom might help get me out of my funk, and that’s okay. They don’t have to get it. They also don’t have to get why buying the 2016 version of The Guide to Literary Agents is imperative to my success as a writer. When it arrives, I plan to set it on my desk in the sunroom where I can’t not look at it. Its sole purpose will be to mock me into submission. If it succeeds, I might even get to read it one day.

But until my new desk locale mojo kicks in or Elizabeth Gilbert magically brings the creativity back into my life, I’m distracting myself with other pursuits.

For one, I’ve been focusing on getting bendy. I’m convinced that the only reason I was able to move my desk in the first place is because I completed Adriene’s 30-day home Yoga Camp. I might’ve missed a day here and there, but I made up for them on other days and finished right on time.

I rarely post pictures of myself because no one ever takes any, but my friend Stacy sent me this photo she took at Justin’s recent promotion ceremony. And we should probably all take a moment to appreciate Justin and his service and all of the hard work he’s done and bureaucracy he’s swallowed to make it to this point in his career, but we should probably also take a moment to appreciate my arms.

Because holy shit, how did that happen?

Adriene, that’s how.

(Though she doesn’t get any credit for the shoes. Those were all me.)

And, at the risk of sounding like one of those people who found a magic pill or a life-changing shake and whose sole source of income is to enthusiastically sell it to you (NO JUDGEMENT), I really just love her videos and her message and the sense of calm she brings into my life. If I could only choose one thing to do for myself, even at the cost of sitting down to a nice glass of wine and the next episode of Nurse Jackie on Netflix every night, I’d pick this. And not (just) because of how it’s made me look, but because of how it’s made me feel. It’s made me feel like I can touch my toes for the first time since I was ten. Like I have the support in my back to sit up straight without pain. Like I can move small desks in a single bound.

It’s made me feel like I have nothing to complain about, and that, if you don’t know, is pretty huge.

What do you choose to do for yourself to maintain your sanity during the winter months? Practice yoga? Rearrange furniture? Plan travel summits? Do tell.

P.S. Once again, I’m on the planning committee for the Women in Travel Summit. Need an excuse to get to California next month? This is it. Use the code ‘katiewits’ (without the quotes) for 10% off of your registration!