Credenza

While it is true that I feel much better in my new office with the space and the preserved Victorian timelessness of the place, it is true that I don't feel as if there are as many people coming into my office. This may be due to the fact that I don't see all of the people coming in and out like I used to when my office was at the beginning of the long tunnel of a hallway from the front entrance to the conference room. Or it just may be that it all was an optical illusion. But at the same time, it is quite comforting to sit in this chair in the sunshine and hear the cars whiz up and down the two cross streets which run off the corner of this building. It creates an illusion of business where there might not be one. Of course, it may not be an illusion at all.

Today I travelled to pick up the mail. In the mail was a large check (good), a bill (bad, or simply a necessity of life), an order finding against my complaint in Magistrate's Court in Pike County (bad, but survivable), an order dismissing the second motion filed by the defendant against my clients in Henry Superior Court (a very good), a notice from Blue Cross Blue Shield about claim payment (I haven't had coverage with same for about two years) and various other pieces of paper trash which quickly found their way to the round file below my credenza.

Yes, I have a credezenza. I am not sure what it says about me that I, in fact, have a credenza. A credenza sounds European, like it originated in Spain or Italy. A credenza should contain a bottle of sherry, slowly leaching the lead from its bottle and several glasses. Instead, this credenza originated in Sweden and contains nothing, other than the small attached shelf upon which my computer tower is stored. This credenza is actually Kate's credenza. Mine is still in the box and in the closet (the legs). The reason why it is still dissassembled is because, unlike Kate' s credenza, my credenza was not shipped with pre-cut holes for installation of the wood screws on the legs. Instead, I will have to drill holes in order to screw the legs on to my credenza.

So, my credenza is still in the smart, brown box in which it was stored on the cavernous shelving in the warehouse of IKEA. But, my credenza is the same black-brown color (that is the official black-brown color of IKEA) that provides a feeling of sturdiness, permanence and worldliness which can only come from such a deep, dark color as black-brown. I am sure you can feel the strength from here (inside the box, even).

Of course, I think the actual wood from which the credenza is constructed is probably some light, flimsy, no-count wood which gives one the sense of airiness and very, very soft jazz. Jazz without feeling or consequence.

It still keeps my things in the air. Away from the dirt of the floor, tracked in by the rabble, and their counsel.