Office Space Case

deskIn my office, I have a desk.

It is a fine desk. Beautiful, large, and kind of a dark cherry red wood-that-might-not-actually-be-wood. A desk that I sort of liberated from its sad prior existence of languishing in the lobby, abandoned by former staff. In its stead, I left a ramshackle little desk that I bought for five bucks or so at a surplus store years ago. Now that desk is living a sad existence as well, but I try not to look at it so much, because I don’t need the guilt.

In my desk, there is a massive amount of clutter.

I cannot get at the clutter. I locked myself out of it. How sad is that, and in some ways, how convenient?

It was about a month ago. We had just moved to a new location, and I had just set up my office space. I was kinda-sorta-not really in a rush, perhaps a little temporarily lazy, and up-ended a box (or two) full of stuff into its drawers, fully intending to eventually sort through the clutter to create some kind of order. I think, anyway. That I dumped the contents of the box into the drawers in full view of one of my co-workers, a guy that lives to crack admittedly hilarious jokes, probably wasn’t the best idea. Especially since he regaled the story of me dumping the aforementioned boxes into the drawers during a recent staff development training on minimalism at work. Hmm. I didn’t think that one through.

Anyway, it’s all locked in. The keys are locked inside, I think.

I spent the first 10 minutes at the office this morning trying to implement a little minimalism in my office space, and I did a decent job, but it sure would help if I could put some of that in the desk.

If only I could get it open.

I may get a locksmith to get into this little Fort Knox, with its treasures of paper clips and Post-Its and scads of pens and pencils and all manner of office flotsam and jetsam.

But then I’d have to deal with that clutter. What a dilemma.


About J. Parrish Lewis

J. Parrish Lewis writes. He is also the author of The Goblin Road, a fantasy novel, and The Rabbit List. He was born and raised in Maryland. In his youth there, he and his brother had many adventures in the dogwood forests near his home. His nostalgia for these adventures has strongly influenced his characters, their relationships, and their perspective on the world they inhabit. He moved to California’s coast to earn his degree in communications and now lives with his family in the San Joaquin Valley. Lewis is profoundly deaf and uses American Sign Language to communicate. He enjoys hazelnut coffee, captioned movies, and walking his dog.
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