I made a pot of coffee this morning instead of a single cup from the Keurig. It just felt like it was going to be that kind of day. I trudged up the stairs and plopped down in the recliner in my office. I was engulfed in a chaff cloud of dog hair. The boy's dog stayed with us for the past couple of days. I know where he has been sleeping.
One more week and I start my new gig. I look around my home office fondly. A little nostalgia is already forming. Actually going to an office to work is going to be strange. This room is my little place. I spend more than forty hours a week in this converted bedroom. It is where I read the news and blogs each morning. It is where I type the mediocre content you consume. I work here and relax here on the long weekend mornings. It is the one room in the house decorated the way I want it.
Aside, I do not advocate framed copies of the Chicago Tribune from November 3, 2016 on the walls or humidors on the family room mantle or little wooden cigar store Indians on the end table. All are fine in my office. Not for the rest of the house.
I think this upstairs corner room has the best view in the house. I can look out over my triangular-shaped backyard. The big willow is just outside, the rest of the small lawn stretches away to the right. The early morning sunlight breaks first through my window. If I am on a long conference call I can prop my feet on the desk and look out the window by turning slightly right. I don't expect such views from a cubicle in an office park building.
Not working from home is the only downside I can find to the new job, at least before starting. I think I'm going to like it in every other way. But I'm going to really miss working from home. The wife is gonna miss me being here too.
It crosses my mind that a desk and filing cabinets are no longer going to be needed in here. Maybe I should get a TV and a small couch ? I could make it into a little man cave. Decisions, decisions.