The Desk

I have come to the conclusion that a person is never done. That whenever we think we are done, we are simply treading water until the urge to change things strikes us again. What is sad about this state of affairs is that we never learn that this is the way of all human life, and so we labour on imagining that one day everything will be just right and more than that, that thereafter things will stay the same because the need for change will be obsolete because we are so happy with the life we have created.
Damn that it is not so. Damn it, damn it, damn it.
Having started a course of CBT with a therapist, I have been instructed to create a proper workspace for myself again, as it has been pointed out to me that running a business from an armchair probably isn’t terribly professional and I will no doubt get more done if I have everything in one place, preferably on a desk. And so my Darlings, being the kind of woman who likes to do as she is told, I have spent the last few days creating a little home office, in exactly the space it used to be in before I got it into my mad head that I am the only person on earth able to function squashed up in a chair.
I found a lovely old school teachers desk in our local furniture recycling centre and went shopping for wallpaper for one wall in my bedroom so that my working space could be clearly defined. I scoured Ebay for a desk chair that would be comfortable but to no avail. Eventually, I found one on Office Monster that looks so comfy and was a really good price. It might not be as comfy as my armchair, but it looks like a solid runner-up. I’m hoping it fits well with my desk. I bought some darling mirrored frames to frame a set of four posters I found inside Flow Magazine. I have set up my printer, added speakers so I can hear my laptop, and organised something resembling a filing system. I am trying to be normal.
The daft thing is that this is how life used to be. I always used to work from a desk like any sensible person does. And then life went a little pear-shaped and I sought refuge in the hug of an armchair and while the house stayed lovely because I was busy adhering to my well-established routines and rituals, work has become ever so slightly ad-hoc.
Um yeah. So this is where I am at. Trying to reconcile what should be with what is. Trying to make the two ends of this ever revolving wiggly circle meet again, so that I can be whole again. The car was a start, this desk another inch forward. I have never shied away from telling you truthfully how I am and this is just a little bit more of that truth.
Do bear with me won’t you? While my head might just be ummm, up my bottom, my heart is always in BrocanteHome.