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One doesn't own stuff.

My mother gave her computer desk to me in the spring. She did this for two reasons: Her computer had worn out, and was not fixable, and she didn't want to replace it. And after her illness, she decided she needed a bed in the room where the computer desk was. The desk sat in my living room from early March until this past weekend. Yes, it always takes a long time for me to incorporate new things. The big issue I had was, how to fit it in the office with everything else that was in there. The desk has a hutch, so it couldn't go in front of the window where the old "desk" was. It took a long time to visualize a new floor plan, and then a little longer to commit to moving half of the stuff out so the desk could be moved in. Not only did it already have a "desk" (more anon) and other furniture, but it has been the storage area for a lot of large musical gear, such as a P.A. system, bass amplifier, and miscellaneous rarely-used instruments.

I have "desk" in quotes at the end of the previous paragraph, because it was a desktop placed across a two-drawer file cabinet on one end and a printer stand on the other. (No, they're not the same height, but I added a couple of pieces of wood on the shorter end.) The desktop is out, but the two "pedestals" are still there. What I really need is a five-drawer file cabinet, to replace the already-mentioned cabinet and another two-drawer file cabinet. When I will do that, I have no idea. But I'm going to have to try to do that soon, because the office just isn't big enough for lots of short office furniture AND musical equipment. All that musical equipment has to come back to the office, or something, because it's in the spare room, which Dave uses when he comes to visit.

The "or something" can't be a storage unit. I keep trying to talk myself into that. The little devil on my shoulder says "You could get one for just a few months, and look, the first month is just a dollar!" But that way lies madness and a long-term commitment and waking up two years later realizing you have all this stuff you never even see anymore. Yet I don't really want to get rid of it. Well, some of it, yes, like outdated computer software and dozens of 3.5" floppy discs, but not things like musical equipment. See, it's true, you don't own stuff, stuff owns YOU.

But the new computer desk, it's nice, and so far it seems to be more ergonomic than the old board-and-cabinets, which was really too high and exacerbated my repetitive-stress pain in my elbow and hand. I got my nephew to help me move it yesterday, in return for getting my mom to make meatballs to feed him and his family. All I have to do now is start repacking all the stuff back into the office. Excuse me while I have an anxiety attack ... [gah!] ... there.

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December 2017


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