Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

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RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby Piper » Wed Sep 20, 2006 11:08 am

Thanks Deborah. But it's true. I could even use carbon dating to establish how long certain papers have been stacked there. The good news is, it's a mess, but it's my mess and I know where things are...sort of.

All the best.


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RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby goobiesonvenus » Wed Sep 20, 2006 11:18 am

My desk is small, but not too small. It has a picture of my sister and I at her graduation, a bottle with a bunch of pennies in it, another thing with a bunch of other coins in it--dimes, nickels, and quarters, no pennies. That thing is in the shape of a medieval column, with a Celtic cross on every side. I got it for my birthday. Smooshed between the bottle of pennies--not very full--and a wood box I made in 9th grade full of pens, pencils, erasers and the like is an unorganized pile of papers, envelopes, and the manual for my calculator. It's very thick.

All of that is on the far right-hand side of my desk. In the center, slightly off-center is my Fujitsu computer, a beautiful silver, relatively new laptop. Next to the laptop is another pile of papers and a pad of paper that isn't 8.5x11, but really long and skinny. On the top it says, "Once Upon a Time...". I can't remember what else is on my desk, as I'm not at it right now. There's a lamp there, silver off to the right side, hanging over my computer. It's pretty sort though, so it doesn't actually reach very far.

So it goes.



RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby leenasm » Wed Sep 20, 2006 11:32 am

My workspace is miniscule. A blonde wood IKEA desk pushed into the corner of my rented room. The papers pile up, threatening to overtake the floor, the printer, the king-size bed. the trash can is never large enough to contain all of my doomed projects. Embarrassingly, since I like to think of myself as an environmentalist, my trash contains numerous plastic bottled and even plastic bags. the contents of a food container or a shampoo bottle overflowed in the bags and now I am too lazy to clean them and properly recycle. Please tell me I'm not the only one.

Various dirtied coffee mugs grace the outskirts of my desk. One false move and the tangled web of cords and cables will push something over the edge. The goopy remnants of a hot chocolate cling to dirty spoons. An empty water glass is filled with pens - good pens, my one luxury.

my mind is equally cuttered. A reflection of my workspace, or the other way around?

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RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby ladybug51347 » Wed Sep 20, 2006 1:25 pm

There’s a card sitting on my desk which reads, “This birthday card is non-denominational….there’s no money in it! “ You’ll also see a signature of two wonderful grandsons scribbled …um signed near the bottom of the card. This card will most likely reside on the desk until a new one arrives next year. Yes, I confess…I’m sentimental. Especially when it concerns my grandkids. Being a grandmother of nine definately has its rewards.

To the right of the computer-screen rests a digital camera ready at a moment’s notice to capture the next ‘International Photography Award.’ Books line the shelves of the upper level of my computer desk while cubicles hold everything from a clock which has long since quit running, to a small winter oil painting a friend sent as a gift. Nail polish shares another cubicle along with batteries, (that’s a woman’s prerogative, ) a small container of paper clips, staples, rubber bands, and one very small stapler finish the list.

Looking upward from the cubicles, are two masterpiece collections of Jesus with Children, and Noah releasing a dove.
Both are a gift I gave myself from Christmas’ past.

The west window allows filtered light to dance at will across the room as I catch a quick glimpse of hummingbirds feeding from a glass feeder swaying in the breeze. I keep a watchful eye for that ever-present cat just waiting for a free meal.

For a calming affect, there’s a medium sized aquarium with three fantails swimming at their leisure. My son’s first Christian CD recording, ’Mountain of Faith’ plays softly in the background.

The latest issue of ‘Birds and Blooms’ sits atop my hp printer along with a check I’ve not found time to cash.

There’s a 2001 Writer’s Digest honorable mention award hanging on the east wall. A reminder that with hard work and determination I may truly be a published author some day. For now, I’ll be satisfied to write about my writing space, the dust bunnies collecting under my desk and words of encouragement to friends.

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RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby Les » Wed Sep 20, 2006 2:15 pm

On the north wall, staring at me is my monitor. In front of the monitor is a bumper sticker Lincoln Stars Hockey. A phone is on the right hand side of the monitor. A post it note is stuck to the monitor base reminding me of to take our PT Cruiser in to the dealer tomorrow morning. On the east wall shelf of the computer desk is a printer, an old computer disk holder that now contains computer games. Below the printer are two shelves and a drawer which contain various computer related items. There is also a western gunbelt pencil holder on the left side. To the left of this is a small two drawer file cabinet. On the shelf directly above my monitor ar four rows of CD's. In the cabinrt space above that are various computer "help books". On the right side of the split computer desk are two shelves on which my writing help/advice books are. Also on these shelves is a clock, small Native American calendar, an old pencil sharpener, a cat calendar, more CD's and a coffee cup holding pencils and pens. Against the west wall is a large double dresser which is to large to fit in our bedroom. Various wall hangings adorn the walls. On the floor is a tangle of cords going every which way, an old popcorn container used for a garbage can, the modum, a cat toy and a paper shredder. It's a comfortable work space and I like it.


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RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby by the bay » Thu Sep 21, 2006 11:31 am

My workspace is split ,work - work and home, plus right hemisphere and left hemisphere. I am not anal retentive, so my work area looks as though work is being accomplished. I also work in my car. My desk at home is fairly tidy, but the rest of the room is layered in: colors, objects, found things, the peculiar, fossils. I like to write on envelopes and open them up as i need more room. I like to write something then stash it away in a box and I may not come accross it for eons. I work all the time, even when I sleep. I like to journal in sketchbooks. My emachine computer is awesome. I love the quality of sound. I want to have areas of calm and areas of clutter. I would describe my workspace as a living collage and that's the way I love it.


RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby ctd » Thu Sep 21, 2006 11:50 am

My eyes are dry from the heater that I run all day to keep this tomb of an office habitable, and by afternoon the constant blowing heat has made me so sleepy that I can’t think straight. My thought process becomes as disheveled as the right side of my L shaped desk, piled with three unkempt stacks: one of loose papers, one of file folders holding the record of defunct committees, and one of the mail that I removed from my inbox three days ago. At the far edge of the desk there is a perennial clearing where I drop my keys and sunglasses. Probably there so I am always assured of a hasty escape.

My workstation sits in the juncture of the L. An adjustable keyboard platform juts from underneath the desk. Throughout the day I bump my knees on it as I cross and uncross my legs, but the mechanism for adjusting it is jammed somehow and it never seems important enough to fix it. I keep a water bottle to the right of the workstation in an attempt to re-hydrate my body at a pace that matches the heater’s plan to desiccate it. Behind it sits a jar of unsalted dry roasted sunflower seeds. I’m not a snacker, and its level reduces at a slow pace, but it is essential on those days when some zealot decides an issue is so important that a meeting is called during lunch hour. I refuse to eat my lovely homemade salad and bread/cheese/olive lunches around a conference table with these blowhards. Food is sacrosanct.

The left side of my desk is my real work space, although it need not be clear since all my work now requires a computer. But there gather the various papers and files that I need to process my output. And of course, my beloved print dictionary, because I couldn’t remember how to spell sacrosanct, and even when spell check corrected me, I got curious about the word’s meaning. Next to it, on the far corner of the desk, sits – always – my 5.5” X 8.5” calendar/planner. Phone numbers, family birthday and anniversary lists, itineraries for an upcoming conference trip, voice mail records, and the schedule of meetings for the month. My current calendar goes through 2006; already I’m feeling the need for January, February and March pages. My work life insists itself into my future in very pushy ways. One of my workmates insists I need to convert this book/calendar/life-tracker object into a Blackberry or some other pda. I just can’t see reducing all of that content into a device…

At the far back left corner of my desk is a phone whose complexity far exceeds my ability to use it. I have mastered numerous software programs and technologies, but I hate the telephone. I’ve yet to learn how to forward a call. I do, however, know how to call someone and leave a message without making their phone ring. A neat trick.


RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby Canscribe » Thu Sep 21, 2006 4:08 pm

It Works For Us … Really

As I look around my workspace, which doubles as a family room and occasional diner, I suddenly realize how long it’s been since I’ve actually seen it as a part of my working life. It more tends to be a place I only look at or search, mostly to see who’s been playing with what and where they left it.

No, I’m not referring to my children. My workspace is populated at various times by my research partner and ever-patient spouse, Laura, Sam, the clumsy 60-pound Lab, Max, the fat, lazy cat, Mom, her even fatter mother, Ratso, the keyboard-whacking yowler, and Tosca, the off-key cockatiel, who has been known to fling a sunflower seed a full five feet when she has her knickers in a twist.

It is home to 17 framed pictures, most of which prompt good memories: my son and daughter with their spouses, my grandsons, my wife dressed as a bizarre Halloween tramp, my beloved, but now sadly gone, border collie Scruffers, a few good friends, three old girlfriends from the days when I had more energy than common sense that my wife has cheerfully accepted as friends , my daughter and I on holiday in Morocco on her 14th birthday and my now long-dead father, who it took me 33 years to find. Scattered among them are a number of awards, the most memorable of which is one from the Shaare Zedek Medical Center in Jerusalem for which I, an Irish-born, Sicilian-raised, transplanted New Yorker wrote a fund-raising campaign in Toronto.

The place is cluttered and only periodically as tidy as it should or could be. There are two desks that are home to two older computers and their accoutrements, all of which are impervious to muttered threats, an often-running television, two telephones, a boom box, approximately 75 books, a big jar of jellybeans, a pile of yet-to-be paid bills, a stack of newspapers, a couch the dog chewed a hole in when a puppy, a walker for when my legs are get bad, and two big windows that look out on a huge but decrepit old apple-crab apple tree that is home to doves in the morning and a big, ugly, noisy owl at night.

My trash can is never more than a quarter full, since the cats and dog think it’s fun to knock it over and play with whatever falls out. The floor is covered with an ugly pink carpet that my 78-year-old mother-in-law thinks is beautiful, since it matches two of her chairs. I love her dearly, so it's a topic we never discuss.

We often work long and late hours, so the place is periodically awash in the aroma of pepperoni-pepper-mushroom pizza or home-made garlic-meatball-mozzarella grinders. In all, the place is probably more suited to a layout in “Garage Chic” than “House Beautiful”, but it’s worked for us for more than a decade and, quite frankly, it matches our working PJs quite nicely.

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RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby JonathanD » Fri Sep 22, 2006 8:09 am

Pens: blue, green, black.
Pencils: No. 2
File organizer bought from first season of "The Apprentice"
Files in organizer
Dell computer
Tape dispenser
Post-it notes
Tacks in gray fabric walls
Papers held up by tacks on walls
AP style book
Highlighter: light purple
Mountain Dew
Red pen
Note pads
File drawers: two
Constant reminder that I DIDN'T waste my education... maybe this time it'll stick.


RE: Your Workspace 9/19-9/25

Postby mizrob » Fri Sep 22, 2006 10:16 am

A tiny little microcosm of my universe. In other words, my desk, my workspace.

Studied pandemonium it might be, but it’s MY desk. My home away from home, labeled ‘off limits’ to those who would clean, tidy, straighten or anything resembling CHANGE to it. It’s the place where I can look out the windows behind it to my backyard in my den. My black chair is well worn, bracketed by padded armrests fashioned from closed cell foam. It supports books on its upper shelf crowned by pictures of my Air Force son at the top along with magazines.

My high backed chair is parked in front of my computer with its 17” monitor gaily adorned with post it notes, the super sticky type that has double the sticky lifespan of the ‘regular’ post its. No matter how long or short their time of duty is, they eventually end up in the garbage anyway, after they’ve served their purpose of reminding me of inane and not so inane items demanding my time and attention, comments to myself for myself, notes with numbers and dollar signs and names and places, and an I love you mommy from my daughter. I treasure that one note more than all the rest combined.

A variety of pens stick up at odd angles pointing to the distant sky from my pencil holder, which also sports a ruler, a pair or scissors which seems to spend more time hiding when I need it than not, and a letter opener. A small orange sun from Mexico (or me-hi-co, accent on the HI I BROUGHT THIS BACK FOR YOU if you please) and an assortment of batteries in need of a charge lay next to it. A few crystals from my collection reminding me of worlds beyond the physical, an acorn with pointy tips from an unidentified pine tree reminding me to not hold on to my worries tightly lest I become them, a digital camera and CD‘s for my listening pleasure all are testimony to a variety of things I sometimes forget to enjoy!

Probably the most innocuous item here is my computer. This tower with its assorted wires, holes for plug-ins, a modem, battery backup OH NO WE CANT LOSE EVERYTHING IN A POWER SURGE sits placidly beneath the desk on the carpet. It serves as a storage place, the holding tank, a reservoir keeping the words, pictures, files, presentations and all things making it possible to keep a business, a history of my past present and future, and a connection to the outside world. Who knew the internet would have shrunk the world to a box this small? Who would have known this unimaginative shape could hold friendships with others forged over years even if never greeted face to face, dreams, tears of happiness or sadness, news of the other side of this very small world and of our neighbors next door?

This, in a single word, is my desk.




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