MySpace = My desk
My desk is actually one end of the table in our living room. Everytime we're having visitors, or a party, or when there's a "project" to be done, I have to remove ALL my things. "My things" being what one would need on ones desk: computer, books, pens and paper, and of course the ubiquitous other "clutter" that somehow manages to creep up on the table while I'm not looking. Old newspapers, e.g.
Lately, this has begun to really bother me *sigh* but there is really nothing that I can do about it, since the other room is M's "work" room (actually, it's more like a COMPUTER GAME room...).
I need to get myself a desent lamp for 'my desk', now my eyes hurt. That's what you get when you have tear ducts that don't produce enough liquid, I suppose.
Lately, this has begun to really bother me *sigh* but there is really nothing that I can do about it, since the other room is M's "work" room (actually, it's more like a COMPUTER GAME room...).
I need to get myself a desent lamp for 'my desk', now my eyes hurt. That's what you get when you have tear ducts that don't produce enough liquid, I suppose.
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