Thursday, September 27, 2007

Ode to my new writing desk- and how I love thee

I had longed for it.

I had yearned for it.

I had dreamed of it.

I had searched for it.

After pictures and pictures, websites and magazines, I was ready to give up. Was it really so hard to find a writing desk? A classic desk that didn't look like crap and didn't have a keyboard drawer? A writing desk that didn't cost $1000?

I had enlisted my mother and friends on my search for the perfect writing desk. I dragged my poor mother to countless furniture shops and pleaded with my husband to e-mail Craiglist sellers in the late hours of the night. The search consumed and overwhelmed me. With every shop, I thought I found the perfect desk. For that moment, it was just right. But in my heart, I knew it wasn't. I was simply settling to end the vile search that was haunting my dreams.

The worst part of the matter is I despise looking for furniture. Once I find it, I'm thrilled. It's the searching that's so irritating. I get this vision in my head of what I want, and struggle to find it realized. All the desks I saw were ok, alright, boring or cheap. I couldn't find it.

"I need a desk worthy of inspiration," I told Ben. A desk I could write at, dream at, pretend I was Jane Austen at. Hey, it's my desk, not yours. I needed something puppies could run into and children could bump. I needed something that could last for years.

And one lazy Sunday afternoon, I found it. It was hidden in a corner of a consignment shop on the opposite side of town, this gorgeous cherry wood writing desk with 3 drawers. Brand new, it was only $400. I was smitten instantly. I was enthralled. I had to have it.

Calling my Mom, I was thrilled when she graciously offered to buy it for my birthday. I waited and waited until we finally drove to get it yesterday. Not only did she purchase the desk for me, she hauled it back to my house! We hauled it in piece by piece (the legs were taken off for transportation) and it was done.

When I got home from a book signing (Emma Sanders, check her out!), I was thrilled to see that the desk was standing proudly in the center of my office, gleaming with polish! A beaming Ben had put it together and polished it for me while I was gone. I touched the edges in glee. It was mine, it was really mine.

So, I have to thank my parents for buying me this gorgeous desk. And I have to thank Ben for spending his night putting it together after a long day at work. It means the world to me.

For it is a desk worthy of inspiration.