It’s been one month since I seriously cut back my cell phone usage. Life-changing. All the benefits I noticed after the first week are still there, only better. I’ve re-discovered reading, my new favorite way to combat my anxiety and negative thoughts: I simply fill my brain with different, interesting thoughts. Thoughts so interesting, my sick brain gets distracted and continues to ponder them long after I’ve put down my book. Turns out there are a lot of topics more interesting that my self-hatred, insecurities and fear. Motivated by my first book of 2019, The Power of Why, I’ve subscribed to Harvard Business Review, to learn about business topics that interest me. Who knew, rather than making all possible mistakes myself, I can read articles by famous academics and business leaders about their struggles and lessons learned, and benefit from them? My brain feels lit up by this limitless potential for knowledge. The more I read, the more questions I have, the more I thirst for a free moment to finish the article I am currently reading and move on to the next one. I feel alive.
However, all this mental stimulation is exhausting. At first I thought it was the jet lag from my vacation, but it’s been 2 weeks and I am still crashing into bed by 10pm. Even with 8 hours of sleep, I’m waking up voluntarily by 6:30 and making it to the office by 8:30 without breaking a sweat. (I am no longer spending all my money on Uber. It’s a wondrous thing!) As I adapt to this new schedule, I also try leave the office by 6:30pm even on non gym days, so that I can go home, eat real food for supper, before putting in another 2 hours of work. Coupled with my habit of putting in 5-7 hours every weekend, it was time for me to invest in a home office for myself. A real desk, a real chair to support my back, a 2nd screen, a surface to write. I mentioned my idea to ICB.
He started by sending me pictures of various desks. It soon became apparent that he and I have very different tastes in furniture. He likes modern, slick minimalist looks. I like dark wood, the heavier, the better. “I’ll take you to IKEA” he offered. I thought he meant “I’ll take you to IKEA eventually“. He meant “I’ll take you to IKEA this weekend“.
I was a little embarrassed, since every man on the planet presents being dragged to IKEA as modern-day torture. But not ICB: he made me smile often. ICB had strong opinions on the type of chair I should get, to make sure my back would be properly supported, because I have terrible posture from working so much. Once he understood what my criteria for a desk was, he kept me focused: “Vanilla, yes that is a really nice desk, but you said you absolutely wanted drawers and that one doesn’t have any.” He disapproved of my tendency to overlook the combined aesthetics of chair and desk – it was important my work space made me feel good. When I struggled to imagine the set up of my office space, he explained away my worries. Within 45 mins, I had a desk and chair picked out.
ICB didn’t let me lift the heavy boxes in the IKEA warehouse; he did it all himself. I caught him carefully inspecting the boxes for any indication of damage as we waited in line at the cash register – something I’d forgotten to do. He loaded everything into his car, leaving me with nothing to do except bring the cart back to store front. Drove me home, helped me carry everything up into my apartment, and promised me he would drop off the 2nd screen he’d already picked out for me this week.
I take pride in being a strong, smart, independent woman who don’t need no man, but damn, it felt lovely to be taken care of. Watching ICB pay so much attention to the little details, not because they mattered to him, but because they mattered to me, made me feel precious and feminine. Valued. Valuable.
Still, I got plenty of opportunity to prove to myself that I am the strong, smart, independent woman that I pride myself in being. I set out to build my IKEA desk and chair BY MYSELF today. I figured it would take me 2-2.5 hours, and then I could spend the afternoon working and maybe even squeeze in a visit to Allie, William and their baby.
After 2 hours, I had one drawer, and half a cabinet. Nothing resembling a desk. I decided to give myself a little break, and went to my favorite coffee shop, les Méchants Pinsons, one street over from my place. Nothing like a yummy latte and a warm cinnamon bun to keep my energy levels high. I enjoyed a cozy 40 mins there, chatting with the barista and owner about my IKEA saga, and listened to their eclectic anecdotes of the moment. I left re-energized, ready for whatever IKEA threw my way.
3.5 hours later, I had almost cried, accidentally hammered my thumb twice, uttered several unlady-like expressions. I had a desk. A boss desk. Ha! Look at me! Strong, smart, independent woman who don’t need no man!
Fatigued, but eager to be done with all things assembly, I opened the box for the chair carefully picked out by ICB. To my dismay, this boss chair required a power drill for assembly. I do not have a power drill. What to do? I could wait till my father was back in town, of course, but I wanted my office set up noooooooooow.
On a whim, I went back to my favorite coffee shop. The owner was surprised to see me, and more surprised still when he heard my request to borrow a power drill. Still, he went into the basement to fetch it for me, only to come back despondent: the other owner had borrowed it for the weekend. Slightly daunted, I turned to leave, making a mental list of who I could reach out to – Allie? currently at the swimming pool with her son. ICB? He’d mentioned he had a busy day running errands. Dynamo? Hahaha, Dynamo wouldn’t know what a power drill is, he would hire someone to build his furniture – when one of the employees called me by name. Her boyfriend was about to leave their home to come pick her up, so as long as I didn’t mind waiting around for a bit, I could have her power drill.
THAT is why I love that coffee shop. They embody the lost art of community. Fun fact, their coffee shop is a wifi-free zone. They want their patrons to have conversations: with each other, with the staff, with passersby. The place feels alive, because people are connected.
I ordered a hot chocolate, and read some more. 30 minutes later, I had a power drill, and I left, their enthusiastic wishes of good luck for my new office echoing behind me.
7 hours. It took me 7 hours to build myself my new home office. I’m so happy. Between ICB yesterday and today’s coffee shop moment, I can tell, good things are gonna come from this desk.
The first being this blog post of happiness.
Nothing feels as good as getting something positive done – moreso when you did it yourself. Doesn’t take great powers of foresight to foresee many hours of solid work and interesting reading in that office.
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Your desk is BEAUTIFUL, I love it! As a fellow Ikea-home-office builder, I agree with ICB’s assertions about combined desk and chair aesthetics. V important!
Wow this is great. I am an independent woman but you would never get me to work 7 hours on buildimg anything… men need a purpose sometimes and aim always glad to give them one in these types of situations lol. And yes its nice to be taken care of but most important of all, you are taking care of yourself : sleeping more, reading, working less or better and creating a beautiful space for yourself. Good job!
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Not gonna lie, more often than once I came close to calling ICB up and asking him to do all the manly things required to build that desk. But I am stubborn AF, and it became a matter of obstinacy: aint no way IKEA would get the best of me!
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