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writing desk

By 12:52 AM , , , , ,

writing desk
Originally uploaded by looseid

A week ago, I faced a truth that I was in denial about for a year.

I have no desk and I need one.

Sure, my laptop's portable and I write in bed, at the dining table, on the couch, on the floor. But if I'm really committed to writing & producing for a living, I should get serious and dedicate a permanent spot in my house for my life's work. If not, writing will always be relegated to being my nomadic sideshow rather than the main event.

As it is always the case when you make a clear decision about something, things fall into place to make it so.

It was no different in this case. That same afternoon, I met a friend for coffee and walked into a store downtown where I spotted the perfect desk on sale.

As it is always the case when I make a clear decision about something, and things fall into place to make it so, I doubt my very fortune and second-guess everything. Perhaps even walk, no, run away from the green light instead of towards it to reach the other side.

Sure as shit, I left the store without the perfect desk.

Plus, I needed to check measurements.

Yup, then comes the justifications for why it would be stupid to have this desk, where would I put it, it'll be one more thing I own, why couldn't I just continue on with my current setup, I've gone this long without one, how could I possibly find what I wanted this easily, something must be wrong with it and of course, I will live to regret ever wanting a desk. What? Why would a writer need a desk. I'm a dumbass for ever entertaining the thought, and on and on...the teeny tiny voice in my wee brain goes through this same script over people, places and opportunities, why would it be any different for a powder-coated metal desk with a tempered glass top.

So I slept on it.

I woke up the next morning with considerably less chatter.

Even though it was a bustling Gay Pride Sunday, with pink boas and steroidal flesh everywhere, I didn't talk myself out of heading into the eye of the rainbow storm.

I got in my car and drove back to the store, albeit 30 minutes before closing. I actually found a legal parking spot in front of the store, so the shipping clerk was able to wheel the desk right up to my car.

Sure as shit, this is the perfect desk.

Great, now I have no excuse.

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