One of the best things about organizing and getting rid of stuff is that feeling that’s akin to getting your hair cut when it’s been too long.

“Ahhh,” you think. “So much better.”

I just spent a few hours going through paperwork odds and ends, tossing most into the recycling barrel and will spend a while longer shredding personal information: name, address, old bills with account info, etc.

Not the most glamorous Sunday night, but a necessary evil.

Better yet is the clarity that comes with decluttering. My home office is one that I desperately need and want to makeover, but I’ve yet to find a desk that I like.

And then it hit me: make my own.

The more I look at the myriad ways to create a custom desk, the more I realize how how girly my tool selection is. I need a router? Really?

Probably not. There are easier versions of custom-made desks that I’ve found online, and some that could be done for a few hundred versus over a thousand. Score.

I can picture it here in this room, and I think how nice it would look; it would really open things up. I would have more space to learn, to do. I’ve always wanted to learn calligraphy, but never had the right space in which to practice. But the desk in my mind’s eye invites so much: it invites creativity, invites me to sit for hours and finish my plays, invites me to practice, to paint, to create anything and everything. Right now, I have random pieces that make up my office. And those random pieces stir up the same unfocused randomness in me.

I’m in need of some order, and order I shall find.

Tonight I am thankful for the simple task of organizing and going through paperwork which led me to thinking about buying a new desk, then about making my own, which then led to the dusting-off of a few things I’ve always wanted to do but haven’t yet. If you have a need for any calligraphy work in the next couple of years, give me a call. I should be ready to go and well-practiced by then.