This weekend's New York Times featured the redesign of a living room in an apartment occupied by two writers, Victor LaValle and Emily Raboteau, so that she could have a workspace at home just like him.
Reading these articles gives me ideas above my station, but most days I feel lucky even to have room for a desk. It was part of the lot of IKEA furniture I bought from the last woman who occupied this room, and while it's not the desk I would have picked out on my own, the price was right. Amidst the books and magazines stacked on it are a never-opened tin of Mariebelle hot chocolate (so cute!), my splendid Sennheiser headphones and a Weenie Whistle. I face a wall with a black-and-white poster of Paris on it, that I think I bought in college. There's a window to my right so I get a little sun and can see the sky over the building next door. Where are you writing from?
4 hours ago
3 comments:
i am writing from my work office which is an IKEA desk i assembled before I got the office with the door. on the wall are a series of sarcastic webcomics, mostly achewood and xkcd, and a too much coffee man.
My office desk is depressing because we have been rumored to be moving floors (without actually moving) for three months. I did put up a this sign, which I find very calming.
I'm with Ellen on this one; I've had to change my office so many times over the past few years (and I may be moving again soon) that I don't have much in the way of decorations other than a photo of my bureau gathered for somebody's going away party, a Kevin McHale starting lineup from the late 80's that people say looks just like me, and a trinket or two that co-workers have brought back for me from vacation.
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