I love my window. I've worked at the same place for exactly forever plus four days, and while the inside of my office is a veritable chunk of dookie, there is quite a lovely world just outside. A few years back, some interior design peeps from up on the hill came in to set me up with new office furnishings. The result was lovely and efficient, but the ginormous custom desk was created in an L shape that left my back to the window. I hated it, and it weighed on me like a ton of bricks. One day I decided that I'd had enough, and I tore that office a new a-hole, finally manhandling my giant desk into a new configuration. (I blogged about it, but I'm currently too addled to elicit the search terms that will lead me to that post). Since that day, I face the front door and just to my left, my thinking gaze leads me to the loveliest of visions:
My window. My tree. And yes, my car. Talk about your feng shui.
Such a braggart, Jacquie, geez! No wonder you've worked their forevah. My view is not so inspiring, not at all.
And the window does not open, not even a little bit -- no fresh air in this workplace. Although I do, like you, look right out at my very own car, and therefore could produce a very good description of anyone trying to rip it off (stop laughing, I'm sure someone would steal a 9-year-old Jeep).
I've also seen some interesting domestic squabbles through that window, taking place down in that apartment building parking lot. But in general the view above remains unpopulated, like the photo displays. The sidewalk out there is little used, and even road is just the exit from the back parking lot to the street.
It's about as interesting as the neurological article I'm currently copyediting....
This is actually a view looking in, but you can see the reflection of the street, because it was taken by my super-duper photographist husband, Mistah:
Usually there are lots of man-boys on skateboards riding up and down the street, and the most adorable little family hanging outside of their gallery. And the tattoo boys hanging outside their tattoo shop. It's a bucolic lovely little slice of urban heaven. And there's beer inside.