Truthbeknown tonight, I have nothing to write. I'm merely writing today for the sake of writing, for the sake of getting myself back into the habit of moving my fingers with the hope that someday, something will come from it.
So, since I have nothing to write, I will just describe what I see around me. or rather what I do not see. My office is dark, lit only by the glow of my laptop. My laptop is sits on an old library table. The table was my family's dining room table until I was about 10 and my parents replaced it with a huge, square antique table from Germany that's very heavy and was missing leaves. my dad made some leaves for the antique table and when we extend it, we cover it with a table cloth so that you can't see the leaves don't match.
This table, the old library table, found its way into my dad's office when I was 12. Then it was handed down to me when I moved from a dorm to a house, in college. I don't recall what happened to it when I moved back into the dorm. But either way, it followed me from college into my post-college life and across the country.
When I was a child, I remember thinking this table was so big. I believe we had 8 ladder-back chairs around it. Three on each side and a chair at each end. I can't imagine that now. Americans are so large these days, seating three to each side seems impossible. It's highly probable that we only sat two to each side and one at each end.
Anyway, these days it is my desk. My very messy desk. And I really love this table. It's probably 3 feet high, blond-ish wood with a veneer that has peeled away slightly on the interior where hot plates have chapped it. It's simple, sturdy and a reminder of simpler times and more hopeful dreams, for me. This table feels like a security blanket for me.
Wow. Look at that. I had nothing to write and now, I've written something!