In a world where everything has become so paperless, I’m unsure how to recycle the digital envelope the latest correspondence came in. I looked around my office and wondered what really mattered. My desk is on wheels for some reason. Maybe it felt left out because my office chair also has wheels and can also spin around. Perhaps it’s so that, if necessary, when asked about a particular Zoom meeting, I can apologise with a legitimate excuse:
“I’m so sorry, but my office is currently struggling to do 50 on the inside lane of the M2,5 and I needed to concentrate.”
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I think it’s technically referred to as a ‘mobile office’ even though that is quite a stretch. But there you go, the world was listening, in the form of my Google search history informing Amazon what I was in the market for, and an ad popped up for a complete package of “Office: Stationary.” I figured it was a typo.
That would make a bit of a change; I can tidy up all the various cables that seem to congregate in front of my computer screens after a ‘big tidy’, and I can rely on the things that require literally no battery power at all.
I must have misread the description. The doorbell rang, but it wasn’t DPD; it was a site safety engineer asking me to briefly leave the spare room so that he could install the stationary office. I had signed on the digital dotted line for an office that was legally required to never move. I’m not quite sure how to explain this to the landlord.
All the paperclips I’d recovered from the living room cupboard in preparation were now, ironically, stapled to the carpet in a fun navigable pattern, as if this immovable office needed to provide a topographical experience.
I feel quite stupid now. I hope I didn’t make the same mistake for when the standing desk comes next week.
(Next week came, and you’ll be pleased to know that it’s just a regular desk, which made me recheck the ‘sitting desk’ which, it turns out, is a desk in the sitting position of a dog; so utterly useless.)
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