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A chair, by any other name, is still a bed.   —   Cats!

This is my desk. At least, that's what I like to tell myself. You see, when I first got this desk I was very excited. I hadn't had a desk to call my own in years, always using Adam's desk and computer in what we liked to call "sharing" but the truth of it is, if you're both computer nuts there's no amount of sharing that is going to be satisfactory. In my first step to claim ownership over my Internet obsession I bought a laptop and wireless router and was contented to travel about the apartment, my own little Internet couch café. But after a year or so of never having a stationary spot, an increasingly sore back, and numb legs from hours of couch and bed laptop time, I was overjoyed when

my father called with news of his separation with his old office desk, which I had staked claim on years ago in the event of his, um, death. Not that I wanted said death, but this desk has always been a part of my life, a staple directly linked to memories of my father, so it was very important to me to have it one day, if he did not.

That day came (without death!), much to my surprise, and my father even made a special in-person delivery with it all the way from Michigan. I cleared an area in the apartment, set out and purchased some desk type items, and I'm as happy as a clam. But, come to find out, I'm still sharing.

Posted 10.24.2005 11:14:13 PM

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