I'm sitting at my 2nd desk. The window looks out over... my neighbor's roof. Still; sunlight, and such. And some of a tree. You might wonder: 2nd desk? Yes. I woke up yesterday and surveyed my attic and got into a major funk, which was only alleviated by task-doing and cleaning (a spectacular mood-boosting method that I should've been fully aware of, but only recently fully understood after I read I'll Drink to That by Betty Halbreich, which I recommend if you like memoir and fashion) (she is also super-fun in the documentary Scatter My Ashes at Bergdorf's). Granted, I was, and am, coming off the high of Great Plains Theatre Conference. ...Strike that. I'm trying to take the high as my normal and build off it.
Hence, 2nd desk. As you might be well aware of, I struggle deeply with my air-conditioning unit. As moving is undesirable and impractical, I have to deal with the deficiencies of my space. (I definitely spent some crabby time on Zillow yesterday morning, though.) So I did some re-arranging. Let's add that to the list of spectacular mood-boosting methods. I mean, it can backfire, as it usually results in a mess, at least at first. But yes. I moved one of my white IKEA desks under the other attic window. Next to my shoes and shirts. Here.
This morning's view.
I'm not exactly committing myself to anything, because that sounds like one more stressor (I do that to myself, and I'm trying to practice my way out of it as a mood-ruining method), but as I like to share life and good things with people, and I heartily enjoy my attic, AND because so many of my friends are not as near as I'd like them to be (which would be RIGHT HERE), I'm thinking I will pay more attention to little things, and post them more frequently.
But of course, also ramble about Big Things. :)
So above, you have my Collection of Shoes, which I don't call that (Collection of Shoes). I just call them... shoes. I was doing a tiny purge yesterday, and only got rid of one pair. I only wear some of them maybe once a year, if even that - these last few years have not been great years for the high heels, partly because of work, particularly CSU (have to walk a lot to get from A to B). But also because weather. I feel like I shift from sandals to snow boots.
But I like them, like I like my shelves of books that I also do not all use on a regular basis. And I like the shelf itself. It dates back to my childhood, and who knows where it came from, before that. It looks like maybe my dad, or grandpa, made it. And maybe my mom put the Contact paper on it, which I won't remove or paint over. It reminds me of, well, my childhood. Specifically, one of the plastic Strawberry Shortcake shelves that I religiously stacked with strawberry pies and ladles for strawberry soup, outside if possible (Strawberry Shortcake really belonged outside, not in the basement). And this piece of furniture spent a lot of time in the garage attic. ATTICS RULE, PEOPLE. Even if primarily used for storage. Storage rules. Not, like, storage bins or storage units. But shelves. And attics.
I really can't get over how much of my dusty history is actually sitting next to me - the shelf, but also my Tumble Tower, another copy of which I played with in the church nursery in Longmont when I was too old to be in the nursery. There was a slide in that room and it was carpeted with low-pile orange carpet, the same that matched the pews. Progressive design, there, at that church. (I'm only half-joking.)
And the ceramic duck... scrubber-holder? What are they called? The things specifically made to hold dish-scrubbing things? Well, that. It was my great-grandma Nora's. She always freaked me out a little bit, though she was very kind and happy. I ended up with some of her ceramic things when she died, and for some reason, without feeling nostalgic about them, managed to hang on to them because they were hers. Not a small feat, I guess, when you're a grade-schooler. This duckie is one of them, and it makes me both happy and sad. I'm not sure why. Perhaps because it was something she liked, but no one in the upper-layers of family wanted it, so it came to me, unwanted but marginally appreciated.
I like it a lot, now, though. Because I like cute things, though cute things can make me happy-sad (pugs), too.
I had no intention of rambling about my stuff on my shelf. I'm being indulgent. I'm also enjoying the fact that I'm doing it just to do it.
Now I'm going to eat pasta for breakfast and clean up the mess I made re-arranging my 1st desk area.
And then I suppose I will get to "work".