Here I sit again – in the living room. Moved for the umpteenth time, I am all out of sorts. I mean, my home is the office, so why have I been moved out here again? I am a desk for goodness sake, not a coffee table! I was brought into this house to be a tool for work and study, and they keep moving me around. My leg is throbbing from being rammed against the wall in the move – it tortures me when my routine is disrupted!
I have to admit, I do like the scenery of the living room better. Much improved lighting, more socialization going on, and more work being done. But, I can’t figure out why I keep moving. Charlynn seems to be unable to make up her mind when it comes to my location and it makes me crazy.
I notice the table here – older and much more worn than I. It looks at home while I am obviously out of place. I hope they keep me around to be able to look like that someday. I imagine the table has been used for many years – colored on by children, sewed on by Charlynn, homework completed by Heather, meals eaten here. So many purposes; so many uses. I love to work – to be of use. I just want to stay in one spot. I am a desk, I crave structure and stability… not change.
If I could talk to Charlynn, I would share with her my thoughts about structure. A well lived life is one of constants. She seems to want to move and change and move me around with her – not my idea of a good time, or a logical life. I am in this for the long haul. I want to stay put and be of use on a daily basis. I want to feel needed and nurtured and put to work. I hope she decides to move me back to the office and leave me there for a good long time. And I hope she settles down too.
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