The room that is my office is on the second floor of our house. It houses a wrap-around desk with a hutch, an overstuffed bookcase, a file cabinet with a printer on top, and a futon. Although the futon was meant to provide me with a relaxing place to read, it mostly provides a comfy place for Cyrus to sleep while I work (it is one of only two pieces of furniture he is allowed to be on), or an extra bed when needed.
Before that, it was Brian’s teen-age bedroom. Posters of rock musicians filled most of the available wall space and different titles lined the book case shelves. A larger and sturdier desk replaced the desk that was mine growing up. Mostly it was messy, but it was his domain.
Before that, it was Brian’s toddler bedroom, created for him to make room for his sister in the nursery. Bunkbeds, a record player (yes, an old one that played the Sesame Street albums he loved), an aquarium, and the desk that was mine growing up are some of the items that came and went or stayed during that stage.
Before that, it was a guest room with a double bed, an old bureau, a hand-made bookcase, and the desk that was mine growing up. Since we didn’t often have overnight guests, it doubled as my office while I was teaching and pursuing a graduate degree.
Before that, for a few months after we moved in, it housed waiting-to-be-unpacked boxes and furniture that needed a more permanent home. It was one of the first rooms we cleared, mostly to give me a place to work at the desk that was mine growing up.
Writing this, I realize this space has come full circle. It started as an office/bedroom and is now an office/bedroom, but oh how it has changed through the years.