the Magic office
Thursday, February 7, 2002
I had four cups of coffee today.
Or was it 8?
I dunno. After a certain amount of mugs, I tend to forget. The
caffeine is pumping as well as the heart. The hazards of working
at home. I swear. I almost need a guardian. Or someone to check
in with me from time to time. I'm too dangerous by myself. With
coffee.
But it is almost 6pm now. I'm almost done with the withdrawal.
I'm drinking a nice cup of DECAFFEINATED tea. My work for the
day is finished. And I'm looking forward to an evening of watching
Friends.
And ER.
Yeah. Did I mention that I dreamt about Noah Wyle last night?
Or was it the night before?
 Oh
yes, the night before because I was so pissed. Why do the good
dreams only come at the end? When you have to get up! He kissed
me. I like him.
Buzzzzzz. Alarm.
So I have to watch ER. Mr. Wyle told me to. And he's just as
serious telepathically than if he'd contacted me in person so
I gotta listen.
Did I mention my overabundance of caffeine this morning?
So. Where I am?
We launched our web site at work this week. Most of the feedback
has been positive. We're working on edits now. Starting to plan
for all those other things that "didn't get done." Stuff
like the Styleguide. Documentation. All that groovy Word-doc-y
stuff. Did I mention that part of my job title uses the word,
"Analyst"?
I know. Sometimes I forget, too.
I had a super weekend. Last weekend. And yes I know it's Thursday,
but give me a break. I haven't updated in over a week.
So my weekend was really good. Because. Because of my office.
You see. James and I finally, FINALLY, after a year of mumbling,
"we have to do something about that office" -- did something
about that office!
We have this tiny two-bedroom apartment. It's not NYC-tiny. But
it's still small. Especially when you're a 30-something couple
who loves to cook, play on the computer, buy art and other house-y
stuff. There's never enough ROOM. And so the second bedroom/office
became more of a walk-in closet and it was driving me batty. We
were storing three bikes, a full-size bed, our desk with old Performa
computer, scanner & printer, various books and documents,
an old sewing machine stand with television and whatever else
we didn't want to deal with on a given day. It was a room you
could barely MOVE IN. We even stored our ironing board in there
that we literally had to move into another room each time we wanted
to use it.
It was pathetic. And one of those nagging things that made me
"hate our place."
And I had dreams of fixing it. I thought maybe we could play
with the furniture arrangement. But James was never positive.
He didn't think my ideas would work. I'm not good at spatial relationships,
you know. He never lets me pack our trunk for a trip.
So we ignored the room. It would bitch at us from time to time
from its neglect. Until last week. I could have no more.
 It
started with a flyer from Target. A solid wood bookcase on sale
for \\$38. And I became inspired. We purchased the bookcase on Friday
night, did a few measurements and went to bed with second-bedroom
dreams of grandeur in our heads.
The next day after yoga & step (of course), I started on
the cleanup. Because this whole thing was a process. A process
that started with some organization and shedding. I first went
through my closet in our bedroom. Made room for James' shoes.
Got rid of stuff I didn't need. Then I cleaned James' closet out
in the 2nd bedroom, moved his shoes and -- wah-lah! -- extra storage
space in the 2nd bedroom closet.
Then I went through books. Computer books. Office books. Old
files. Old folders. I cleaned. I filed. I threw shit away. And
since we had to meet some friends for the Vulcan Parade at 5pm
(if you don't live in St. Paul -- you wouldn't understand), I
had to leave my job only half done.
And I have to admit, I was pessimistic. It seemed I'd created
a much larger mess that I had begun with. The books were creeping
out the doors. Junk was strewn everywhere. But we choose to ignore
it and head out for the night.
So Sunday morning, it was showtime. And it went surprisingly
fast. I moved the sewing machine & tv into James' closet.
The bikes stayed where they were. The books that littered the
room were organized on our new bookcase. And the magic furniture-moving-process
completed the miracle. The bed that used to be centered in the
room was shoved against the back wall. The desk that used to be
behind it, was moved to it's perpendicular wall next to the bed.
And suddenly there was this big ass square of space. We didn't
even have to touch the two bikes which are in a stand in a weird
nook in the room and the plan is to hang my mountain bike from
the ceiling.
So, this big-ass square of space in the center of the room was
for real. Was here to stay. And it made all the difference in
the world.
After that was done, the rest of the work was cake and fun. Vacuuming.
Putting stuff away. I arranged the bed like a daybed and I started
smiling each time I passed. I even hooked the light up to the
lightswitch -- something we couldn't do before. Yes! I can use
the lightswitch! It's the little things, you know.
And now I want to work in there. I want to spend time in there.
It took all my self-control not to sleep in there
on Sunday night because I really wanted to. It's my new room.
My. New. Room.
For the past year, neither James nor I enjoyed working at our
desk. It was too crowded. Stressful.
But now it's inviting. It's a real office. And if anyone came
to visit, I wouldn't be embarrassed to let them stay. They can
actually get into bed, move around in the room. Have enough space
to, you know, GET DRESSED.
And it's amazing how energizing fixing your space can be. It's
gotten me in gear to actually work on the fact that our computer's
airport (for wireless Internet) isn't working. I've actually ordered
a cable/dsl router and ethernet adapter card in order to network
the computers in our flat. Our old performa, our powerbook (w/airport)
and my work PC laptop will all soon be able to use our ATT Broadband
service. An undertaking I've been avoiding for about as long as
our room.
And the frosting on the cake?
Wednesday morning when I realized I needed to iron my khakis
before work, I was actually able to iron them in the office. Where
the iron and ironing board live. It was truly magic.
So, what's next? Does anyone need me to work on their unfinished
basement? Help them move?
Because, you know, I'm all about getting it together. Give the
girl a cup of coffee, and she'll give you an office to envy.
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