I have an office. To you, this might not be terribly exciting news but to me it all but causes cackling and cries of Mine! Mine! Bwhahahahahah!! Yes, I’m a tiny bit excited.
We moved into this house seven years ago. Our son was born a couple of months before the move and due to everything the purging one is supposed to tackle when packing never happened. We brought everything. I think we may have actually acquired more stuff in the mile drive from our old house to the new.
I knew I wanted the old kitchen space for my office – we had decided to make the old kitchen/dining room into the family office space and I loved the small alcove. (During renovations we moved the kitchen from one end of the house to the other – when most holidays include dinner for at least ten a kitchen with barely enough room to make a sandwich isn’t going to fly). The space filled with boxes and though I occasionally poked at the pile I had other things to unpack and occupy my time.
As the years progressed when I had time I pulled out box after haphazardely packed box. I purged, recycled, sorted and organizied. My sister made me a big fabric-covered board for the wall and my mother’s old desk fit the oddly-shaped space. Slowly things began to come together.
Last weekend I made the final push, and at two am Saturday morning I was finished. Now I have an office of my own, a space all mine in which to write, create or stick pens in my ears if I so wish.