New Desk

Today is Monday. And I have a new cubicle desk at work. It’s 3x the size of my previous one. This excites me. I now have room to do the henious tasks that I get paid to do… Not that I didn’t have room to do these things before, there just wasn’t space for me to have any clutter. I firmly belive that a little clutter is a creative muse for those looking for a creative muse. If cleanliness and orderliness is a creative muse then a small cubicle would be great for you. Now in my opinion there is a fine line between clutter and just plain messy. When I say clutter I mean some papers scattered, pens not in the pen holder, maybe a couple empty root beer bottles, and a note pad with more doodles then actual notes. Clutter does not mean strange stains, old dirty spoons, used klenex, and crumbs from your crumbly breakfast donught scattered amongst the other things that inhabit your desk.

I am actually worried that I have too much space, there are large spaces that are void of office desk things. I just now realized that I actually don’t have much work related stuff to actually put on my desk. Tomorrow I am going to bring in some pictures and maybe a couple little items that will fill these voids…

Until then, I will spread out the few items that I do have across the entirety of my oversized desk.

Carli

A Box For Thinking.

I sit in a cubicle eight hours a day. Looking at the blue desktop background of my little out dated Dell computer. When I get tired of that view I lift my eyes to the grey wall of my cubicle. Sometimes I poke my pencil into the dull fabric that makes up the cubicle wall, pretending that I am trapped in a box and need some air to pass through those holes into my lungs. Sometimes I draw. Then get annoyed at the fact that my attempts at drawing a beautiful women fails misribly. I them take these pictures home and hang them above Courtneys bed and make fun of them with her. Some how this corrects the sorrow I feel for those drawings. That those sad people I draw will never be looked at as beautiful.

But in this small lonely cubicle I make plans. I dream big. Make decisions. Learn new things about life. It is a place for thinking.

This is the only time I have to really sit down and think. Plus I’m getting paid to do it.

I feel some sort of anger towards the people who pick up on the other side of the phone line. Those people that are too busy to answer a few quick questions. Those who are to private to share their beliefs. Those who are to brain washed to be realistic. Those who are too sad to be kind. Those who are to passionate to be humble. I talk to so many people who feel like I’m an intruder into their lives. Maybe I am. But I feel like they are intruding into my life with their snide comments and unfair judgments. I’m just an honest girl doing somewhat unhonest work so that I can someday live a life that I have been and now am working towards. Isn’t that what we are all doing?

That’s all for now. Carli