What my desk thinks about at night

This post is courtesy of a book of prompts I journal in when I need to write but can’t find the actual words I want to say. I know you’ve always wanted a post about the thought process of a desk, so here you go.


 

I cling to warmth coming from the charging laptop, not that she uses it. It sits idle on me, day after day. I notice she glances over longingly, as if she knows she has  something to say, but life continues and she looks away.

That tea mark is going to stain my white finish, but she won’t notice for weeks until she moves the pile of ‘to organize to file,’ which might take months. Seriously, it would take five minutes, it always does, and she puts it off like it’s the dismantling of a very tricky bomb. Mustn’t disturb until fully prepared.

Why does she keep so many notepads on me? She never uses them. Even in my drawers. The space is brimming with notebooks that just look good. I wish I could tell her to stop buying them, that she won’t use them, that I need wiped off, but I have no words.

I like when she sits down to write. I’m a safe space for her, but I wish she came to me more when she was happy. So often it feels like a last resort – a need too great to ignore. It’s then she notices all the things she’s let pile up. All the cards and invitations and mail she should address but decides to ignore. The coupons she won’t use and the magazines she won’t read are littered around my small surface area and I really don’t appreciate being covered. Don’t get me started on the notebooks, wait, did I already mention those?

It’s hard being a desk and most people don’t realize it. I sit here all day, burdened with your crap, only to be ignored while more is piled on. You leave the window open and I get wet and get mad at me when you lose something. Newsflash – I didn’t hide that letter. You put it in me, remember?

But I like when I’m needed. When you clean me out and find purpose in me again. When you realize we make such a great team. Like right now, as you mindlessly give me the judgmental words you’re sure I think because you’re blaming yourself for not writing more.

I will tell you one last thing before you go to bed, Desk User. You are wonderful as you are. I believe in you. Now please look to your right and find that tea mark. I’m serious about the stain.

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