Old is best

For years, I've been using a plain old beige-colored cardboard table as a desk. It's sufficient. It's flat. It wobbles if I'm in a typing frenzy. It's been good to me. But I dreamed of what it would be like to use a desk that didn't wobble when I was in a typing frenzy. What must that be like? Is it wonderful to have a desk that compliments the other aesthetics in your room? Most of my stuff is hodge-podge miscellany. It's this and that ... and, above all else, it is never just one thing. I like my cardboard table. I even put a nail (don't ask me how) into one side, between metal brace and tabletop, to hang my headphones. (Headphones: essential ear-wear for the creation of typing frenzies.) Along the table can be traced accidents (a slip of a cutter's blade) and haphazard wanderings of black ink, and tiny holes in the vinyl here and there that mark the presence of my visiting "What are you doing, and why is it more important than petting me?" cat. On the wall next to my table, equally important marks of my life: two sayings I look upon to give me necessary gumption:

"Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." - Yeah, like my longing to be a writer (that other people have actually heard of).

"Courage does not always roar. Sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.'" - Absolutely imperative following last year's barrage of rejections.

A couple months ago, I got a new desk. A very nice one with a good, classic design, with a faux front drawer that pulls out to become the keyboard space. I waited two months for it to be put together and take its place in my room. More than a week ago, it was together at last, and I prepared myself to get used to it.

Only... I can't seem to get used to it at all! I tried removing the top piece. I tried leaving it on. I tried angling it. I tried pushing it flat to the wall. I tried elevating my chair, lowering it, too. I tried and tried, but none of it would do!

With another submission call to answer by the end of the month, I need to feel comfortable writing at my own desk, at my good old computer!

So, this morning, I decided to remove the desk and bring back the wobbly cardboard table. Here I am! I've used the top piece removed from the desk to lift the computer up to a satisfactory height (ergonomics be hanged!), and with the top piece I've doubled the size of tabletop square footage. Now I can have more papers and more books and more scraps of notes! And, strangely enough, the wobbling is not so noticeable. I mean, it's really diminished. To anyone used to a solid surface, whereupon objects such as computers do nothing so indecorous as wobbling, the twinges would be visible. But I, used to the movement, find it almost eliminated.

Will I be working on my short story now? No. I'm still not completely well, and I think moving a piece of furniture was stupid of me. I feel a little light-headed. And as long as I've waited for the desk, I've waited for the NHL to resume, and to validate my need for it, I will tune into NBC to watch Buffalo. Sure, I can't get used to the home-town team (although they won their shootout last night), but I can like other teams! It's still weird thinking of Parros as a Coyote PANTHER, and Tyson Nash is not as Exquisitely Tan as I thought he'd be. Seems like half the Panthers didn't dress; I miss Kris Versteeg and his hair. (I'm sure those magical locks got at least two assists last year. But he could be all freshly shorn for the start of the season.) And I feel like this is enough hockey talk... (before Tails climbs into this entry and deletes my puck-muck).