Alyssa bought me a desk, so now I have an office in our apartment. Actually, she bought herself a desk. It’s okay, though. I got the better one.
We’ve only had one desk since we moved into our apartment. A mono-desk arrangement was working fine (except for a few territorial disputes) until we decided to start this design company called HelloFriend. Now that we’re both juggling projects, promotion, and personal stuff, the desk was starting to become a hotly contested piece of property. Even the drawers were a potential touchstone for all-out war.
I needed an office space; the dining room table wasn’t cutting it. My laptop was always spread out across it until no less than 2 minutes before dinner, and it came right back as soon as we would finish eating. My art homework usually involves some form of glue or paint, and lots of paper. I’m usually making a very big mess, so having an office was getting to the mission-critical point.
We thought long and hard about how we could fit something in. We argued about it, we stewed about it, there were probably even tears about it. Then I came home one day and found our beautiful antique schoolteachers desk in a corner with a post-it note above it that read, “Justin’s Office”. On the desk were arranged in perfect height-order, were The Chicago Manual of Style, my books on advertising, my typography books, and a tiny little shrubbery. On the wall above the desk, Alyssa had hung these old 1960’s ads for Sprite and Squirt.
See, Alyssa had found another desk and bought it and set it up for herself, then she moved the other desk and set up my office as a surprise for me. It was a very happy day. And now I have a fantastic little office space to call my own, which is great. It keeps my stuff off the dining room table, too, which is always a plus.