Little White Different

So, my sis and I are driving somewhere when I see a little white desk by the side of the road. A little crappy, plywood desk that someone is getting rid of and has left out in the rain and falling leaves. "A desk!" I say. Well, actually it's more of a plaintive wail. All my previous attempts at getting a desk had been thwarted. I'd tried to beg, borrow, buy and steal and thus far I had no reward for my endeavors and here all of a sudden is a little white desk on the side of the road. It's too good. My sister, very kindly doubles back in her rental SUV. I jump out and assess. It's small and fairly clean. It's missing the keyboard tray, but otherwise intact. She rolls down her window. "Well?" "I'm gonna take it," I'm smiling. "It's ugly," she says. I look down at the little white desk. "You're not ugly, you're nice." I hoist it into the car, only marring the plastic interior a little in the process.

Once home I clean off the dirt and leaves that have collected on top and wipe down the sides and the cpu shelf. "Do you think it smells?" asks my sister. "No," I say defensively. "Don't worry," I whisper, "You don't smell bad." I set it against the window and pull up my plastic lawn chair. I place my laptop and important papers on top and sit down.

No more checkbook balancing on the bed, no essay writing in the armchair.

At last. I feel like a person.