A desk of my own

Thursday, September 5, 2019

I was desk-less for a year and a half.

In the jumble of moving down to the same town as Ryan was and finding, well, more important things (like a bed and couch), it was easy to overlook. Easy to dismiss with a shrug, "Oh, I'll get one eventually. I'm sure I can find a cheap one somewhere."

Except I never did.

And suddenly, a year and a half later after the wedding and moving in together, I felt the absence keenly in January. I've already told Ryan after the wedding we were getting one--it came up when discussing a bookshelf in then-his bedroom by the door that is filled with books and things he doesn't use. 'Well, that's where my desk will go...that's where I'd like to put it.' The books could be moved into the living room, the papers and office supplies can be stored elsewhere, organized into drawers.

I so badly wanted and needed--especially after moving into to what was Ryan's and now our apartment--a corner of my own. 

We looked at desks in November, stopping to wander through Ikea during a road trip. We looked at all of the options, but I hesitated, unwilling to pull the trigger then and there. I wanted to be sure--to have mulled over all of the colors and widths. A desk is a sacred thing...a hallowed corner to sit and think and write. A space of my own to carefully decorate and claim. I wanted to choose carefully.

And so, two months later I did. We brought home a light golden wood one: simple and smooth, with deep drawers. Ryan painstakingly assembled it and managed to fall into Ikea instructions induced-despair once or twice.

Despite the original location I'd had in mind, it now sits in our living room, nestled in a corner by the window where I can see the sky.
A lamp takes up one side, casting the desk in a warm glow; books and notepads are stacked neatly here and there, adding height; a small assortment of candles are clustered by a desk calendar and a gold wire pen pot. Above the desk hang various prints and images--my seasonal inspiration I change out yearly.

A desk of my own. It feels so good.

1 comment:

  1. Hehe, both of my kids have Ikea instruction stories from setting up their homes. Are should I say nightmares? A desk of one's own is very important for people who ponder.