Writing at McDonald’s, With a Picture of a Beagle (Maybe)

5000 year old writing (not mine). I wonder what kind of space they used to create this?

I have a great writer friend who just wrote a particularly good post on reclaiming your own creative space.  You should read it because this women’s issue has been around since before Mary Wollstonecraft, and it’s one a lot of women in general (especially me) neglect.  And also because it’s really well written and has a picture of a beagle in it.

It seems particularly apropos to me at the moment, as I am sitting in my local McDonald’s doing my daily writing.  This writing will last as long as it takes for my 2 large diet Dr. Peppers to do their job and send me home to cleaner facilities.

My daughter judges time in songs, I judge time based on how long my bladder is happy.  This is the world I live in.

As I sit here, I wonder why I’m here in this space instead of my own.  This space, with its not-up-to-my-standards bathroom and shitty Wi-Fi that blocks my own blog.

McDonald’s blocks my site, but not myerotica.com. Go figure.

No kidding.  I cannot log on to my own website from the Wi-Fi at this (maybe all?) McDonald’s because it has been blocked as a courtesy.  I’m not sure why blocking my site is courteous, but my deportment lessons were all pre-internet so who knows what I’m missing.  Also, what’s up with the distinction between guests and customers?  Do you think I could come in here every morning and sit myself at a table without ordering anything and just be a guest instead of a customer?

This idea, disturbingly, intrigues me.

In possibly unrelated, or maybe just vaguely related news, I was able to click through to a Medium page entitled myerotica in this very same McDonald’s, so I’m even more clueless as to why my site is blocked.  And no, I don’t know why Medium suggested that page for me.  Is it a bug or a feature?

In any event, when I saw my friend’s post pop up, I had to wallow, just a bit, in the irony that I have made this space into enough of my own that I was a little peeved my usual seat wasn’t available when I walked in this morning.  Indeed, I was ticked off I couldn’t sit in my usual spot in this very public space.  While that certainly doesn’t make it my space, it does make it seem that I believe it is my space.

My clean bathroom requirements aside, right now this space is working for me in a lot of ways that are important, and I’m calling it my space while ignoring the irony.  But I’m left wondering what I’m avoiding to be here, while at the same time I’m feeling pretty good with what I am managing to produce in the space.

That leaves me with lots to ponder and think about as I avoid doing the hard work, of both writing and life.  And, because I like to be as efficient as possible in this avoiding, I would love to hear about your struggles and insights surrounding creating your own space in the comments below.

I don’t have a beagle, so here is the squirrel of judgment.

Please, help save me from myself!

Also, please feel free to call McDonalds at 1 (800) 244-6227 to request they unblock my website!

(c) 2017 Gigi Quinn