Originally written sometime in December or early January, while simply sitting at my desk in my office. ———————————- The skychair and hammock swing quietly in the breeze outside my office window. There’s something about the abundance of greenery as a backdrop that makes them look like lazy day companions instead of lonely objects awaiting a friendly bottom to swing on them. It could also be the dangle of cheap Christmas lights that I’ve strung haphazardly around the patio roof. The fact that they are still on during midmorning tells me, once again, that I should’ve probably spent the extra $3 on a timer from the hardware store. While this room is smallish and a nice greyish-blue it’s obvious that a teen-turned-adult, who was unafraid of the possible marring of plaster and paint by his daily lifestyle, was the previous inhabitant. The various attempts at covering up or even repairing any of the blemishes are few, and border so closely on pathetic as to be almost insulting. That is, until I remember what I was like in my younger years and… Read moreMy office.