I have never been the most organized person on the planet, but somehow, I thought that when I started working from home, all of that would change for me. I even had a vision of what my home office would look like. My guest room (read that “junk” room) is all cleared out and freshly painted. My desk faces the window with a lovely view of my small and uninteresting backyard. There is a two-drawer filing cabinet in a nearby corner, and a small stand for the printer/copier/fax thing. One wall has a large cork board divided into three sections where I can post important information about assignments, research, and family (can’t leave The Girl out of the equation). Everything has its place, and everything is in its place. Only in my dreams.

Reality is a whole ‘nother story. My “office” currently has piles of items that have been waiting to find a new home via Goodwill, boxes of cool stuff ( Happy Meal toys, books, pens, mugs) from my previous life as a manager, and any crap my daughter doesn’t want in the already crowded space that is her bedroom. And let me not forget that wonderful picture of a magnolia that my mother gave me seven years ago when I moved into the house. I put it on the wall because I didn’t have anything else in there. I think it’s time has come and gone. In other words, my home office does not currently look like an office.

One would probably assume that since I am not sequestered in a feng shuied space that I am probably working at my kitchen counter, or the very least, at the dining room table. Nope. I work from my favorite overstuffed chair with the ottoman, where I can comfortably sit without aggravating my lower back. Several labeled banker’s boxes serve as my portable filing system. And I still manage to meet deadlines, find articles I need to read and comment on, and manage my busy schedule. Occasionally, I venture out to a coffee shop or café with the laptop where I do as much people watching as I do work. Those jaunts are usually prompted by my food and caffeine joneses. I figure since I’m there to eat, I might as well sit a while and enjoy the ambiance while I work. There are usually others there doing the same thing, so I don’t feel bad.

My goal for the next two weeks is to finally get down to it and get the “office” squared away so that it will be the place of my work dreams. And then I will need to find a way to keep The Girl out, as she will immediately assume that the clean space means she can steal all my cool office supplies and Happy Meal toys. Because really, all thirteen year olds need expensive gel pens and micro versions of Beanie Babies. A well organized space probably won’t increase my productivity, but at least I will feel less guilty as I sink into my comfy chair when it’s time to get down to work.