A date with Sarah-Kate; Kate’s home truths

Whiteboard in use! Sarah-Kate’s queen of her domain

There’s a lot to be said for working from home, but it’s not quite the walk in the park people who work elsewhere think it is. Until very recently, my home office has been occupying one wall of our bedroom. At the time we built the house, I thought this was a fabulous idea because I could snooze between deadlines.

What I didn’t realise was that deadlines don’t come along one after another like offspring – with a pleasant gap in between – they come along in clumps, like the 266 bus to Hammersmith.

The upshot is that some days, if I had a lot on, I could spend 22 hours in the same room. Worse, often the first thing I saw when I woke up of a morning was the big pile of things I hadn’t done the day/week/month before.

As someone who dances along the fine line of permanent grumpiness to begin with, it seemed wise to remedy this situation before a petition was raised and my name was changed to “Old Bag” behind my back.

So, after a long, torturous process involving three different architects and a lot of incredulity at the price of building (ours, not theirs, I hasten to add – the incredulity, not the prices), we added an office to our house.

Yes, it cost as much as the whole (small) shebang did 12 years ago and, no, I will never renovate again as long as I live, but the office itself is a thing of beauty. It has a high ceiling, not too much light, a view, gorgeous wooden floorboards hand-picked and laid by a lovely friend of ours, a full-time yoga mat on the floor for stretches, my exercycle – which has spent the past two decades in the living room – a desk, a sofa and two whiteboards.

Funnily enough, it’s these last two things that bring me the greatest joy. I bought the first whiteboard from a shop (on sale, natch) and couldn’t wait to get home to assemble it. It’s on wheels, so it can be moved and it flips over so you can use both sides. I mean, hello!

I loved it so much that I went back to buy another one, but they were no longer in stock. There was only one thing for it – Trade Me. I’ve never ventured into this dark world before and got quite the surprise.

Have you any idea how many second-hand whiteboards there are for sale in this country? Literally hundreds. I’m never falling out of love with mine, so I can’t imagine why so many other people have. But after hours of scrolling, I found the exact twin for my own beloved work accessory and next thing you know, it too was mine.

It will come as no surprise to those who know me that I am a fiend for colour coding. As I plot out the TV shows I’m writing (oh, yes, I do that now), my whiteboards fill with endless possibilities in red, blue, green, black, purple and orange. But not yellow because you can’t see it and not brown because it’s just wrong. Happiness!