The Room Where I Write

From Lesson 2...

Oddly enough, the room where I write is at my office. It gives me more of a chance to write when we are not busy, I can listen to music through my head phones. Besides, at home I always have ‘more important’ things to do… wash the dishes, watch TV or read.

The main focus on my desk is the computer, directly in front of me, a black framed flat screen monitor with the black keyboard and shiny white symbols crouched in front of it. On my right a colorful print out hangs with information about upcoming programs. To tell you the truth, I hardly look at it anymore unless I need a date, a code or something specific. The only colors on it besides black and white are blue, green and tan in long rows. Normally it is a kaleidoscope of colors and I reference it every day. Next to that is a purple framed magnetic frame the black and orange bewhiskered face of my cat with her big golden eyes. I recognize my old apartment, the tan carpeting, my multi-colored rug, long ago tossed in the trash. Below the schedule and the picture is my dry-erase board where I write my “To-do” list. I am a list writer, I write lists for just about everything even if I know not everything will get check-marked off the list. The board has a field of white on the left where I write and check off my tasks. The face is currently staring blankly at me. The right side is mottled golden corkboard. Tucked into the edges of corkboard are wallet-sized school photos of my step children… from 2 years ago. Each one has the pinched smile of posed-for photographs. But, I am reminded how much my kids rock because they are both wearing tops (a black colored shirt and a gray and black vest) with skulls on them. It makes me laugh thinking about how much they are like their father and myself even though I don’t share any genetics with them. To go along with the child-like theme, my small plushy of Stitch from Lilo and Stitch hangs from a push pin. His blue-on-blue body reminds me to be silly, that chaos can sometimes be liberating and that we can chose our family even if it’s not the one we were born to. Next to my reminder board is a stack of multi-colored florescent Post-It notes with the top ones scribbled on, the sunflower yellow and dark blue of the ink clashing harshly. To the right of that is my sleek, multi-buttoned phone where I normally get calls from two people – my boss and my husband. Most of the time, it sits just like it is now, silent with its digital display reminding me it’s Friday. The phone sits on a black wire rack, caging in my notepads and serving as a resting spot for my white plastic spoon I use for mixing sugar into my tea when I have some. Next to the phone are red file folders slid into the upright file holder and white papers are sticking out from them, some sheets horizontal and some vertical, and generally overflowing their folders. A CD of some professors presentation is also slid into the holder because I have no idea where to file that. It has been there for at least 2 months and it will be there for many more. In front of the file holder is my “stack it and forget it” pile. A book I am reading, sort of, a pink covered spiral notebook, a meeting agenda, motivational flier and who-knows-what else are set one on top of the other in no particular order.

To the left of my seat is the slightly cleaner side except for the coffee stain that looks like a set of rolling hills if I turn my head to the side. My Wicked coffee cup with its large white letters sits clean and ready when I want hot chocolate or tea. Next to it is my coffee travel mug, blue laminate peeling off its sides. The coffee in it is not 4 hours old, cold and stale tasting. Next to the coffee is a bottle of water, blue label bright against the drab gray desk and partition, reminding me I need to drink more water. The all-in-one pencil cup spills over with pens in blue, purple, red, highlighters of blue, yellow and pink, and the blue and black handles of my scissors. The cubby holds an array of paperclips, white out, hand sanitizer and a staple remover. Standing upside down is the white and blue bottle of lotion I am constantly putting on my hands. In front of all this is the large desk calendar, now smudged and crinkling from coffee and water being spilled on it.