Dear Desk,
Perhaps you’ve sensed this was coming. We need to talk.
You may be wondering where I’ve been lately. To be honest, I needed some space, a little time away to think about things. Now that I’ve done
Harry Mellon Rhoads, photographer
(Image from Western History/Genealogy Department, Denver Public Library / Library of Congress)
that, there are some things you should know.
As harsh as it sounds, I didn’t really miss you. Don’t get me wrong. I felt a bit guilty leaving you behind.
Maybe you sensed that, too, with all the organizing and the careful arranging of stacks of papers with sticky notes, in case someone needed to check with you for something. The flurry of urgent conversations, the late nights leading up to my sudden disappearance. They were all signs of the change to come.
Look, I’m sorry to have just left you like that, bearing the burden of all that work. It had to be done.
I’m not sure that it does you any good to know that while you were here in the dark, I’ve been out and about — lollygagging, dillydallying, maybe even a bit of ne’er-do-welling. I can neither confirm nor deny that last one. Let’s just say, if sleeping in is wrong, I don’t want to be right.
I enjoyed every minute away from you.
There. I’ve said it.
I enjoyed the sunshine. I enjoyed the freedom to roam. And, I am oh so sorry to tell you this, Desk, but doggone it, I enjoyed spending time in the arms of a comfortable chaise lounge, having a fling with a junk novel and a poolside strawberry daiquiri. Now that I’ve tasted the sweet nectar of recreation, there’s no turning back. I want more.
Effectively immediately, I’m cutting back on our usual ten or more hours a day. We won’t be sharing lunch and dinner together quite as often. Yes, things need to change.
I want you to know that I appreciate you. You’ve been so supportive. Solid as oak. Or mahogany, maybe walnut. The first to greet me every morning and the place to leave my worries at the end of the day.
I think what I’m trying to say is that maybe I’ve come to lean on you too much.In fact, I’m sure that’s what I’m trying to say. It took days to work out the stress in my neck. The elbows on all my good sweaters are worn through, and the French cuffs of my favorite blouses are showing the wear and tear. Let’s face it — you can be tough on a wardrobe, especially that rough drawer track that catches on stockings, usually right before an important meeting.
I’m not saying this time apart is anything permanent. I still need you, Desk. You know, as part of the financing model for my poolside lounging. Still, I think we’ve grown too dependent on each other.
Which is exactly why I think spending more time apart will be good for us me.
Work / life balance. (Image from http://www.spaweekblog.com/ )
It’s not going to be easy, but I’m sure your desk will understand. If all goes well, he can find a new role as a dispenser of coasters and a keeper of travel brochures.
Good thinking. . .it is important for us both to redefine our roles. Plus, coasters will prevent tell-tale daiquiri rings.
Desks everywhere are cringing. They fear a trend and are plotting to stop a mass wave of this behaviour.
Personally, I think my talk with my desk is long overdue and I suspect there are many more who feel the same.
Solidarity! ::Climbing onto my desk in my most dramatic Norma Rae fashion::
Sensible, you! I’m trying to limit butt in seat time, too. Butt spread is a nasty outcome of too much desk time. Enjoy your time away from your friend – I’m sure it will get over it.
I’ve been back at the gym, too. In some ways, I’ve missed squats. Not push-ups, though. I hate push-ups.
Always good to let your desk know where it stands. Mine stands on the carpet.
It’s good to keep it grounded.
I think maybe your desk is taking you for granted. Maybe you should remind it that you could just as easily work from a laptop at Starbucks.
Unfortunately, I think it has the upper hand. It knows that I can’t stray too far from Miracle Rose and the State of San Francisco.
Good job. Don’t let your desk talk you into being one of those who leaves the desk behind for 24 hour blackberry use!
Gah. Been there, done that. With two offices in Europe, one in China, and one on the west coast of the U.S. I traded it in for this desk . . .and all that comes with it. I miss the Blackberry more than I care to admit.
Bet that China commute was a bear.
Heh heh. I like how you did that. Bears. . . honey. Have you seen Patient Bear, over at Byronic Man? Patient Bear will wait for the second part of your honey story. See how I did *that*?!?
I’m glad you had a nice vacay! And definitely cut back from the 10 hours a day. That’s only allowed if you’re working only 4 days a week.
Four days a week, instead of eight. I kinda like that idea.
Did you sit at your desk to write this? because, you know, if your desk could appreciate gentle ironies, it would probably think that was cool
Hello! Anyone who appreciates irony, gentle or otherwise, is very welcome here. Funny thing: The idea of the letter came to me while I was at the pool. I wrote part of the draft while still on vacation, but I tried to finish it up during lunch . . . at my desk . . . and I couldn’t get to it. The desk is fighting a good fight and methinks it will probably win.
I can’t work at a desk. I just can’t. I write wherever. When it’s time to pay the bills, I go get them from the desk and take them to the dining room table. It’s kind of weird.
I hope this comes out the right way: you’re my kind of weird. (Is it ok to say that? I mean it in a nice way.) When I was in the classroom, I was almost never at my desk, and although I have a very nice desktop computer, I am at this very moment snuggled up in the world’s most comfortable corner (of the sectional sofa), balancing the laptop and squinting at the screen. The work desk is sort of necessary, though.
Ha, B-Man, that’s what I’d been doing for years, and then my wife put her foot down.
What? Is it a problem using the eating table for my laptop, I asked her. I still don’t see why it’s wrong.
At dinner tonight, you could fiddle with the utensils and mumble something about how these new pens are odd looking and don’t seem to work.
I’m a firm believer in the therapeutic power of creative ne’er-do-welling. Carry on, and desk be damned!
Creative ne’er do welling should be an Olympic sport.
It is. I just won the All Around. Go USA!
You are a great American, Peg. I think it was today’s post that put you in the gold medal category.
Good for you. I hope you can accomplish this. Life is too short to spend it all at a desk, even if if is walnut.
It is a nice, sturdy old wood of some sort, that has been well-used over the years. I’m losing it in a few months when we move and our new offices will be sleek and modern. This is probably just my coping mechanism for easing myself away from it.
I put a little desk on wheels, plunked my computer on it, and wheeled it up to my lounge chair. I find work is much more pleasurable with my feet up!
It probably increases the blood flow to the brain!
“…lollygagging, dillydallying, maybe even a bit of ne’er-do-welling. ” Cutting the fool occasionally is also refreshing I have found. The attachment to my desk has added 4 inches to my waistline.
“Cutting the fool” is new to me. I shall be plagiarizing you at my earliest convenience. Re: those four inches — oh, how we suffer for our art.
Well, as they say, perspective is everything. I long for more desk time. Being at my desk means being in the air conditioning, within reach of the coffee pot, and not sweating. I can mess around at my desk whether it’s sunny or raining, and if I really want to, I even can tuck a bag of Oreos right next to me.
I love my work, and wouldn’t give it up for anything – especially not a move back into the corporate world. Still, my desk is where I do my lollygagging and dillydallying. I don’t think I’ve done any ne’er-do-welling here, at least not more than a few times.
That does sound ideal, especially the Oreos. (The desk in question here is my “corporate-ish” world desk, in a window-less office.)
Oh, that “windowless” would be the killer for me. I’m at my deskie now, and I need only turn my head slightly to the left to be gazing down a palm-lined fairway through a marina. I never could afford to buy this view, but I’m happy to rent it!
Hey, wait! Are we neighbors?! My home desk is in the loft, so it’s a stretch to see the marina, but I can sit on the couch with my laptop and the view is lovely.
Well said, Hipster!And spoken for all us “too-much-desk, too-little-vacay” types! Hope your desk understands and won’t retaliate by snagging more stockings and ruining more clothing. If I could find mine underneath all these stacks of papers and such, I’d put it on notice, too.
Strawberry daiquiris are on the house today, Debbie.
I’m a firm believer in a) lollygagging, b) shenaniganning, and c) tom-foolery, so I totally agree with your assessment, HC!
May it DIP – Desk in Peace!
Apparently your penchant for these things landed you in the spam folder. Obviously not by *my* hand! Shenaniganning is a fabulous word . . . and a nice life goal to boot.
Hmm, usually humans delete me, not computers.
I do not like it Sam I am,
I do not like it Green Eggs and Spam!
Dear My Desk,
Please go to visit Hippie Cahier’s desk. It’ll be like desk-camp. You can braid electrical cords (the cat hasn’t eaten) into lanyards. I’ll be drinking the free strawberry daiquiris.
I’m so glad you’re on board. What say you pick up some of those groovy drink umbrellas on your way over. Don’t forget the sunscreen!
Well, this post just decked me it was that good.
Is this like sandal/scandal? Are you having strawberry daiquiri’s without me?
I wish! It’s a bit too early for that…or is it? *grin*
I defer to the ancient wisdom that it is five o’clock somewhere.
Those ancients were wise.
I missed this post somehow…I have a lap desk for my laptop, but I do my best “work” and I use that term loosely, at my real desk. I do a lot of lesson planning, paper grading, and syllabus writing at the dining room table – but almost all writing is done at the desk. When I am gone from my desk for too long – it retaliates by “losing” important papers, sticky notes, and whole file folders.
I do love strawberry daiquiris – perhaps that’s what’s missing…
I should’ve gotten to this yesterday: those TGIFriday’s Dreamsicles are probably good daiquiri substitutes. Sadly, my desk and I are reunited and I can only dream of Dreamsicles. . .
Boy, I’ve been the recipient of too many talks like that to be comfortable with what your desk is probably going through right now. But I don’t think simply cutting back on the time you two spend together is a good idea. Mixed messages and all. No, a clean break is what’s needed.
Oops, just read your comment after posting my own. Sadly you two have been reunited? With that kind of attitude I see no hope of a future together.
I just can’t quit him/her/it.
Love, love, love this essay! Funny! Poor desk. I hope you’re feeling good about yourself, missy!
I’m not ignoring your comment. I’ve replied twice and both disappeared. Trying again. . .
Stop me if you’ve heard this, twice: the desk is refusing to accept the breakup. It’s like the Seinfeld episode when George’s girlfriend wouldn’t let him break up with her. I suspect the desk is writing its own letter of rebuttal.