Breaking up with my office

I hate my office. I tried all the ergonomic improvements I could reasonably bear. I bought a fancy monitor, courtesy of my generous employer home office stipend. I also have an ethernet connection. Two things it took me 10 years to finally cave in to (oh, and an actual office chair). It’s technically nice, I shouldn’t complain. I’m simply spending too many hours of the day in this little temple of technology and focus. Tried to take a break and make the space less about work. I sprinkled some exercise equipment, which I rarely use. For my brain, this is the computer room. I tried the greening thing. So now I have plants that are suffocating like me; Well fed but wondering why they’re here.

As I’m cleaning (mostly dead skin on and around the keyboard), I took another highly manicured photo, one year after the last one. Run a quick visual assessment: The setup is fine. Having a physical and temporal space for work is great when there is no ambiguity with the work. Most of my work is ambiguous. The space is becoming an echo for my anxiety. The beauty of it amplifies it: Why is something so nice feeling so awful?

I need to break up with my office.

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