They Wanted to See My Desk. I Gave Them This

This is how photographers camouflage the mess!

Once upon a time, in a land about 15 minutes from my house (on a sunny day when the Sunday drivers were at home sleeping), I had an office.

I shared it with three men, but one little corner was all mine. And when my packrat tendencies rendered it a gigantic mess, I had no one to blame but myself. Although, since I was the only one who bothered to festoon the place with holiday cheer and could always be counted on for chocolate, they gave me a pass.

Ah, those were the days.

The days when my computer, gigantic calendar, pens, highlighters, soda bottle caps, and all the cr…um, stuff, I can’t bear to part with were all I had to worry about. The days before I moved my work to my home, and my dining room table became my “office.” The days before my “stuff” was joined by my daughter’s “stuff.”

I try to keep the place clean. Really. I swear.

There are baskets for the papers, cups for the writing utensils, an honest to goodness can of compressed air at the ready to combat the cheese and cracker crumbs after a working lunch.
But when an email arrived in my inbox last week requesting a “photo of your workspace,” it wasn’t crumbs I was worried about when the “nooooooooo” came squeaking out of my mouth.

It’s the five bottles of kid-safe Piggy Paint nail polish and the non-toxic nail polish remover beside them. It’s a children’s book named A Boy Called Dickens, and the random pink folder with the words “I love Mom” scrawled across the front. It’s the six markers (two left without caps for so long that they’re entirely dried out). It’s the pair of purple socks. It’s the three pages ripped out of a LEGO magazine. It’s the scrap of cardboard advising someone to “Have a Dazzling Valentine’s Day.” It’s the white piece of paper with the carefully printed (but awfully hard to decipher) can’t, doesn’t, don’t and your’s.

Are you getting this?

It’s her “office.”

I just work in it.

And now someone wants to see what it looks like? Oh dear. This may take awhile and a garbage bag or two.

So let’s see. If I move it all out and get back down to just the necessaries (bye bye restaurant crayons, adieu scrap of wrapping paper from that baby shower gift that just HAD to be saved for a craft project), I might be able to look like your average slob yet.

Quick, snap the picture, it’s not going to last long!

Want to see why they needed a picture? Check it out: The Stir is celebrating the Big Number 2!!

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