Space of my own

When I worked outside of the home, one of the things that I loved most, was that I had an office. A place that was all my space with my stuff. A place that would look the same in the morning as it did when I left it the night before. After just a few months in my first job out of college as a marketing assistant, we were moving into a newly constructed building and there was constant speculation as to who got which office and in some cases, which cubicle. Some days I was penciled into a cubicle and some days, an office. For me, this decision somehow determined my worth and potential within this company. Looking back, I hardly think this kind of thought was given to this matter, but at the time, to me, my future was at stake. Finally, I was given the news that I had been waiting for...an office was mine! Most people, having seen this broom closet office space I was being offered would have longed for the cubicle down the hall, but I was elated! It did not matter that it was barely big enough for my desk and had no windows. It had four walls, a ceiling and a door! I was a valued employee! I had a future!

Obviously I valued my own space even before I had children, but now that I do, and now that I don't have an office, I long for that room. I fantasize about it. Not just for the actual space and functionality of it, but for what it represents to me. My computer sits on the narrowest of tables in the corner of our tiny living room. I cannot leave anything out, nor can I work without a child on my lap punching keys unless they are asleep. When complete, our addition allows space for an office. If this space is completed while the kids still live at home, I am going to install locks on both sides of the door and relish that in the morning everything will be in the same spot that it was when I left it the night before.