Once upon a time, in the epoch before halflings invaded my live, I had an office of my own. It was more of a craft room, actually, as my creative-drug-of-choice back then was sewing. Along came my daughter, and her daddy and I opted to squeeze our collective caca into a single "office". For the last 4 years or so, that "office" has resembled more of an overstuffed closet with computers. It even has its own, huge, walk-in closet, which with the addition of a window and some electrical outlets would be indistinguishable from the rest of the office (i.e. overrun with stuff and books and assorted computer parts).
My office furniture has consisted mainly of folding tables, El-Cheapo particle board bookshelves, a chest of drawers (to hold the fabric stash, of course), and some cardboard "bankers boxes" full of patterns and other assorted
My newfound freedom allowed me to compute anwhere and everywhere--at the kitchen table, at Starbucks, when travelling, while sitting in bed! My folding tables grew increasingly lonely, and burdened by the heavy weight of all of the
After months of dragging my feet, I have finally handed over money for a real desk. A very pretty real desk, mind you. It is identical to one a friend of mine bought, and I am NOT ASHAMED of being a copycat. It's a beautiful desk, and quite a bargain. The only similar piece I saw at a different store cost double what I paid.
And it looks so Writerly. Writerish. Cool.
Here's a photo
(No this isn't my office. It's the pic from the furniture's website. And I didn't get the fancy chair, just the desk).
My new space arrives on Friday. Hmm...that's not much time to relocate all of my