He had the desk, I camped out on the sofa--and yes he would have switched, but his style is to spread out with papers everywhere and from the photo above you'll see that this is about as much paperwork as my desk will ever have. Even that is unusual, because I'm using the cards to integrate chapters and work on continuity in the next novel.
Our original plan was to check out the May 1 Vide Grenier (giant flea market--empty attic) for those items, but he came back from taking our friend Barbara on errands (and eating at McDos) with a grin. "I think I've found your desk."
They'd stopped at the new Depot Vente so Barbara could check for futons. He'd spied the desk and came to get me to check it out.
We walked into the store and with ten minutes the desk was ours, also the armoire (for his papers) next to the desk, four chairs, a matching dining table to replace the temporary one we were using, and an office chair. These were all things we had planned to buy BUT the idea of going to store after store to find them was on my priority list, right after being water boarded and locked in solitary confinement without anything to read.
- I love them all.
- I also love being able to find everything I wanted in minutes
- I love him for scouting out the desk.
The owners delivered the pieces today and took away the extra furniture. The price of everything was less than a new desk in a regular store.
We (read he did most of the work) and set up my office space in the snore room where either I escape to or he's banished to if the noisy gets too loud at night.
Now I'm working on the next draft of Murder in Schwyz in greater comfort.