Office Space by Heather Novak

Cleaning makes me stabby. Like an out of coffee, stuck in a three hour traffic jam on a full bladder, radio broken, first day of period kind of stabby*.

Funny young housewife with gloves holding scrubberr, isolated on white. Pin-up girl

*Not a dramatization

At my most recent Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America (GDRWA) meeting, several of the wives/mothers complained about how messy their husbands/kids were. Even our only guy – he’s the bravest of the brave – had a story to share. I, however, was very sheepish during this conversation and quietly stared at the table.

I feel close to you all right now as you read about my life, which is now permanently etched onto the vulgar belly of the Internet. Especially if you’re a creepy dude hanging out in his mom’s basement with a penchant for being called Norman. Seriously, it’s like my biggest fan group.

So, in honor of our faceless, somewhat creepy friendship, I’m gonna level with you.

I am terrible to live with.

I’m messy, cluttered, and hate doing dishes. All the middle fingers to you, dishes!

There comes a point, however, when the desperation to clean overcomes. Usually, it’s ten minutes before people are coming over or after a marathon session of Hoarders. Don’t act like you don’t watch Hoarders to feel better about the fact that the socks you’re wearing were scooped up off the floor, despite them failing the smell test.

Mission: Clean house, or at least hide everything in the closet and warn people not to open it.

Deadline: 48 hours

Book on tape: check. (Seriously, the Overdrive app connects to your local library to hook you up with ebooks and audiobooks. You’re welcome, world.)

Reason: Little brother coming to visit AND book club movie night at my house. Let’s be honest. Really just book club. The brother has shared a bathroom with me for ten years, the house being clean will probably freak him out MORE.

48 hours to get our place in grandma-acceptable condition folksJunges Gemse. I needed a miracle. I was freaking out like a teenage girl who had broccoli in her teeth for her yearbook picture.

Listen, I am a master and getting grout clean and dusting picture frames. Why? Because I am EXCELLENT at avoiding things I don’t want to deal with. Like samurai good. But suddenly the elephant in the room finally made enough noise (or enough poop) to be noticed.

The truth needed to be acknowledged.


It’s where book club lo332ves to hang out, because I have a book page wall. I know, take a moment and be jealous. (Want to have a book page wall of your own? Click here. And put down tarps…)

Despite the clutter, it was laid out awkwardly. The setup had been rushed when we move in a year before amid a time of crisis. Back then it was “put things where they fit, I’ll fix it later!” Later had finally come.

I was taking a break from writing to spend time with the brother before he headed off to the Peace Corps (stay tuned for my July 2nd blog all about it!) This meant I had no more fictional characters to hide behind. Totally a normal thing to say, right? RIGHT?!

After removing the three-day-old cereal bowls and piles of clothes I had yet to hang back up (my office is also my dressing room), I looked around the weird smattering of furniture and felt…deflated.

The book page wall? Completely bare, with 2999the exception of the handmade table my friend Chie gave me. It was practically a felony. My friend Emily was coerced into working on that wall for four hours.

So like any good sister, I waited until the brother came into town then bribed him with pizza and made him move furniture at the last minute. I know.

Best. Sister. Ever.

3016 The result?

Much more cohesive and friendly writing work space. Yes, that is in fact a book page tea cup and saucer (thanks to my awesome cousin)! And the best part? I get to stare at my book page wall whenever I’m writing on my desktop.

It’s been about eight days, and my office is still habitable! This is pretty much a record. I owe it all to the power of pizza, little brothers, and the peer pressure of cleaning the house before fourteen women with fourteen bottles of wine descended to talk about hot, fictional men.

Book clubs: A reason to clean your toilet.
This should be our new motto.

Fun fact white stamp text on green backgroundFun fact alert! June 25, 2015 is known for:

  • National Catfish Day
  • Log Cabin Day

Suddenly, I feel the urge to go camping and fishing…it’s weird, right?

Wishing You Laughter & Good Books,

Heather Novak
Bold. Bewitching. Breathtaking. 

Find me at:
Twitter: authorheathern
Facebook: authorheathernovak

Author of Hunting Witch Hazel featured in Falling Hard (A New Adult Anthology).  
Heather 2D FallingHardAnthology_2500px

Hunting Witch Hazel Trailer

Available Now!
Amazon U.S.
Amazon UK

About Heather Novak, Author

Bold, Breathtaking, Badass Romance. When she’s not pretending to be a rock star with purple hair, Heather Novak is crafting romance novels to make you swoon! After her rare disease tried to kill her, Heather mutated into a superhero whose greatest power is writing romance that you can’t put down. When she’s not obsessively reading or writing, Heather is trying to save the world like her late mama taught her. Heather lives in the coolest city in the world, Detroit, Michigan, with her very own Prince Charming. (He even does dishes.)
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