It was about 10 years ago that I met my husband. We disagree about the very first time we met. What we agree on is that we were first attracted to each other when he helped me move out of my townhouse in Annandale, Virginia. Maybe it was his sense of humor, but I am guessing it was more his biceps.
About a year ago (or less) I moved my office from what is now my daughter's room to what was once my daughter's room. I painted it dolphin gray. I put in a great deal of work. This is what it looks like today. Why? I am moving my office. Again. For the 3rd time in as many years. See if you can follow my logic.
The biggest bedroom in our house is in the basement and has been primarily used as a guest bedroom. For a year it was my husband's little brother's bedroom while he lived with us. I think it was Lindsey's bedroom for a little while. My cousin and her husband stayed in there and my bestie and her husband lived in there last summer. It has served us well, however, I figured out that because it is the largest room, it is also the most appropriate room to be an office/treadmill/craft room. It is also one of the coolest rooms in the house - especially during the summer. So I am moving my office downstairs, moving my daughter back into the now dolphin gray bedroom, moving my son upstairs into what is now my daughter's bedroom, and making his current room the guest bedroom.
The point is, my house will be in upheaval for the next month or so while I get all of this done. I'm devoting 30 minutes per day to organizing until it is all done.
Yesterday it occurred to me as my husband complained about moving furniture that I may have a deep rooted psychological need to watch him move stuff to keep things fresh in our marriage. There is something very appealing about a man moving furniture. Just sayin'.
What my now previous office looks like.
What my wall in the new office looks like. My husband's desk will be moved down as well. Probably next week.
The space where my husband's desk will go once I clear out the stuff.