Tuesday, February 03, 2009


I wish now that I had taken a picture of every office I’ve ever worked in—from my first office right out of college to my office on the 8th floor of a skyscraper in downtown Minneapolis to the motley collection of a dozen or so different offices I had when I worked at the college. It seems like I’ve always had an office to do business in.

By far—by miles and miles—the best office I had was the last one. We moved into a brand new classroom building in 2004 (or thereabouts), and I was awarded a rare, precious one-person office. I felt like a queen. I felt my years of cubicles, desks tucked under stairwells, makeshift offices, and cobweb-filled corners were finally behind me. I finally had a beautiful office with a window.

However, since I was not awarded “professor emeritus” status when I retired, they made me give my office back (sigh). So now I am at home, figuring out which corner I can make into a little office to call my own. Tom has his office, and I know I can go in there whenever I want to. But it’s his stuff all over the desk and his cooties all over the chair. I have to be careful not to disturb his little piles, and I feel like a guest.

Right now, my desk is in the spare bedroom, my laptop and chair are in the living room, my printer/scanner/copier is in the dining room, the envelopes and stamps are in Tom’s office, and my important papers are tucked behind a flour canister in the kitchen. Any business that I conduct involves running frantically from room to room.

So that’s my first retirement project: carve out a little space for myself. I need to gather the bits and pieces from all over the house and bring them to one compact space. It will be a place where I can go to do my readin’ and writin’ and ‘rithmetic. A little spot to call my own.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Move dad to the garage! Maybe then I'll get invited home to finally finish it out...r