An Office

Oh yeah, I used to blog, once upon a time.  

 

An Office.  With a Door.

So, it turns out I enjoy having a desk and a chair and my computer attached to a large monitor.  It motivates me to write.  Who knew?  Not me, certainly.  I'm still discovering new things about myself, even in my fifth decade on this earth.  That is a good thing, it keeps me interested.  Sort of like dating myself, as in the "let's go get a coffee" kind of date.    

I'm in the midst of perfecting my office set up.  (Probably a cyclical task.)  New big-ish monitor, a nice clackety mechanical keyboard that my hands enjoy, and a second smaller screen (my little MacBook Pro) to use for research or whatever.  There is still the issue of using a tabletop that is several inches too high for comfortable long-term typing.  The lighting is nicer--warm light from the tapestry loom side of the room.  Maybe a floor lamp is needed?  I need to hang pictures.  Perhaps, I will share photos when I'm done fussing with the arrangement.

One of the things I liked about working in DC was my little office.  It was tucked on the backside of a building, a big city block away from the White House.  Goodness, I don't even remember what floor of the building it was on (4th?), but I can remember my office.  

An interior office, the room enjoyed a moment or two of natural sunshine every day from the atrium window and it had a door I could close, allowing me to focus on a project or eat lunch at my desk.  There was room for a chair for visitors.  A plant or two perched on the top of a filing cabinet.  A stash of tea, instant coffee, and snacks had their own desk drawer.  I had a spare outfit hanging, in the event of a clothing disaster. It was a small sanctuary, yet a productive environment. When I left DC and went back into the field, as before DC I shared basement tables with mismatched chairs or handsome conference rooms with my fellow examiners, whatever space we were allowed at each assignment.  Far from an ideal environment, it takes some fortitude to train yourself to work without distraction.  I guess I had enough fortitude to deal with it for over twenty years.  Then I retired, waving goodbye to all that, thinking I would not miss any of it.  

Odd revelation, missing an office with a door.  Crazy, I know. And yet, there is a little part of me that is humming with happiness as I sit in my "updated" home office. This particular room has almost always been "my office" so I think the humming must be due to a change in my attitude.  I'm still musing about that. 

Five Years

I have been retired from my previous career for five years plus a month and a half.  I couldn't continue to work with all its required travel and be there for Mom, so retirement it was.  And that was okay. It's what a person does if circumstances allow.  

The first two years were years that I'm not too interested in remembering in detail, the continuation of a rollercoaster ride that I'm sure many other caregivers may relate to.  Three years ago, Mom moved to a very nice assisted living home located about ten minutes away from my house.  She's doing great there.  Ten minutes means it is so easy to visit and collect her for shopping or medical care or getting an ice cream cone.  We are both happier.  

I am so thankful for the recommendation from a friend regarding Mom's current home.  To my bones thankful.  Down to the marrow in my bones thankful.  Yes, really.

Typepad Stuff

There are still a lot of cobwebs here at the blog that will need to be dealt with.  I have forgotten how to find and change parts of the blog.  I remember thinking way back when there were tricky bits and there still are ... as that knowledge is eluding me.  There is a bunch of other stuff that I bet I'm clueless about.  I'm open to resource recommendations if anyone happens by to read this post.  I'm sure I'll stumble about and eventually get things tidy here.  That said, there was an iron trivet with this saying hanging in the back entryway to my parents' home and Mom always smiled as she recited it: 

Come in, sit down, relax, converse.  Our house doesn't always look like this, sometimes it's even worse.

 

Comments

[Stacey]

<3

[Vicki]

Oh yeah. Way worse. Hiya, Angie!!

[Nancy]

We all need our space. Glad you found yours!

[LoriAngela]

Hello friend. I was discouraged from blogging when an update locked me out of my photos. But I’m reading blogs again through Feedly and you are churning up that desire. I am also retired and have taken over my daughter’s room. So nice to see all my stash. But can I log onto imminentmetaphor?