Feng shit

I have perhaps the tiniest office on my floor, but I love it with all my heart because it has a window and a television. You can’t beat that. I have good neighbors and live in a happy hallway, so life is good.

Anyway, I struggle with claustrophobia and am very much aware that the obvious layout that I chose a year ago is no longer working for me. I’m moving into a creative period, which translates into “I’m doing some really routine shit and I’d like to see both the TV and the sun so I can get some inspiration here.”

So, I moved my desk to face a wall, which leaves my back somewhat toward the door but not completely, so I don’t have to feel wigged out that someone is staring over my shoulder because I at least have the doorway in my peripheral vision. The layout is good now — I’ve gotten compliments. My chi is sated. Writer’s Block Goddess is now Energy Flow Goddess.

But …

So I am known as the Imelda Marcos of the floor, although I actually had someone say to me, “Are you old enough to know who she was? Of course you are — never mind.” (Do not overestimate the Goddess’ age. Even though, yes, she is aware of the inaugural shoe queen.)

Anyway, I have all my shoes neatly tossed into a big mesh storage cube, but it’s the shoes I wear to work each day that are the problem.

Read: I cannot work with shoes on my feet.

For that matter, I find myself absentmindedly molesting myself here and there, too. Whether I’m touching my boobs or feeling my ass to see if I remembered to wear underwear, I’m not someone who should be given the illusion that she is in a private space because I end up invading my own privacy but with an audience. *sigh*

So, I have to mind my manners and try to convince myself that people are nearby and, in fact, watching. I sort of miss being holed up in the back corner with my ass not hanging out of the doorway. Even more, I miss the modesty panel that hid the fact that I usually sit Indian-style with bare feet. It’s making my attempt at Feng Shui more like a steaming pile of Feng Shit, and I’m hoping more goes unnoticed than I think!

One Lonely Response to Feng shit

  1. Mel :

    Did I ever tell you what Mel is short for? After the first Imelda is dead we will have a duel of shoes and see who comes up the winner! *Evil Laugh*

    At least we didn’t run our country into its demise with our shoe addictions.